Offbeat
by SexyLexiCullen
Summary: He's a cop. She's a student. A missed connection during a traumatic time leaves them both longing, until fate brings them back together again. Romance, humor, slight drama. Canon couples. OOC. AU. This is my version of Copward, and this is a working summary.
1. Chapter 1

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA. **

**Banner by FemmeCullen.**

**Summary: **He's a cop. She's a student. A missed connection during a traumatic time leaves them both longing, until fate brings them back together again. Edward/Bella. Rated M. Romance, Slight Drama, and Humor.

**WARNING: Adult themes.**

**You guys know me . . . always trying to make things as realistic as possible. It's 7k words, but it moves FAST! It's not jammed packed with monologue, but actions, things happening. Please do not skim, pay attention, or you might get lost. Idk. LOL. Enjoy!**

* * *

"**Offbeat"**

**by**

**SexyLexiCullen**

**Chapter One: Cop and Copper**

**L**azily, I sat on the bench and started to button my shirt. It was the beginning of my shift. Being a rookie cop, I had the shift no one wants—the three to eleven p.m. shift, when all the shit goes down.

"Love and happiness . . ." My partner Jasper Whitlock danced on over to his locker. He continued to sing as I finished changing. He has this weird obsession with Al Green. I don't question; I like Al Green, too, but it can be too much at times.

"It's Monday," I interrupted him. "I hate Mondays." Shutting my locker, I grumbled and double-checked everything on my belt.

"It'll be lovely." My partner also has this odd outlook on life. Everything is sunshine and rainbows as soul music plays in the background.

"Right." I stared as he shimmied into his uniform. "I'll see you at call." I hurriedly left the locker room.

After sitting through a recall of the last patrol, Jasper and I headed to our RMP—the squad car. I walked and he sort of danced over. I've only been his partner for six months, and it was getting so tiring—all that enthusiasm.

I had to admit that he was a great cop, though, an excellent partner as well. Never in my life will I bet against his instincts. He's taught me a lot, like, staying silent during our first round about the neighborhood we patrol. We like to take in the scene—get a feel for what we'll be up against during the next few hours.

We work at the 78th Precinct in Manhattan. Our jurisdiction spans thirty city blocks, but_ our_ immediate sector is only about eight. We share the space with Hale and McCarty—Emmett and Rosalie—who are total cowboys. Those two are always forgetting about procedure, always sitting on their radios and disappearing. They stay off the radar, knowing Jasper will respond to any call we get.

But as soon as something good gets called out—a robbery in progress, anything involving a weapon—they're the first to try and beat us there, so they can bank all the credit.

_Cowboys . . . _

When I first started, I thought I was a police officer—someone to commandeer the law and get the bad guys off the streets. Jasper was quick to inform me that we're actually problem solvers. There's no job too big or too small for us to handle.

I'm stuck in the middle—halfway—thinking we solve problems. And we do all the things I believed cops to do as well, such as, keeping the peace, enforcing the law, and making arrests . . . Basic policing procedures.

"How's Maria?" I asked, after we had been driving around for a while.

His grin straightened into a tight line. "Uh, we broke up over the weekend—no big deal."

"Oh." I nodded. "That sucks . . . shit." Looking out the window, I saw some dude snatch this lady's purse. "Pull over!" I shouted.

The brakes screeched as we came to a halt; meanwhile, I was almost out of the car already. I heard the sirens blaring behind me as I took off for the perp.

The lady was knocked onto the sidewalk, and I actually hopped _over_ her.

I'll worry about her later, although I hoped she wasn't dead. I wanted to return her things.

The guy hadn't made me yet. He was still running, and then he ran behind a building.

He turned, and I ran faster.

I almost missed the sonofabitch because he stopped to rummage through it. Angry and not able to process that he came to a stop, I tackled him to the ground.

"Don't hit me!" He let go of the purse and went to crawl away.

"I'm not—" I wrangled him closer, reaching for my cuffs.

"Don't hit me!"

"Shut up!" I snapped, rising to my feet while I pulled him up as well. "What was she, eighty?" I asked, slapping my handcuffs on him.

"Just—" He paused, at a loss for words. "This economy is shit."

I started to pull him toward the street. "I'm sure you can find a better day job."

Jasper laughed, having pulled up onto the curb. "Purse snatching—whatta classic!"

I sighed, still reading Fucko his Miranda Rights before I shoved him into the back. "Watch your head!"

Jasper must have called EMS—an ambulance—since they were already attending to the old lady. The large bus was parked right behind our RMP.

"Dude, where's the purse?" Jasper asked.

"Fuck!" I winced, cringing as I jogged behind the building to retrieve the bag.

The handbag was still on the ground. I was happy. It would be just my luck that some other thief would have stolen it.

"What's your name, ma'am?" Jasper asked the lady.

"Francesca." She pushed Mike's, the paramedic, hand away. "I'm fine. I'll call my doctor."

"Last name?" Jasper tried again.

"None-ya." This old broad had a sense of humor. "Thanks for getting my stuff back." She nodded and winked in my direction. "But I don't care for cops."

Jazz continued to smile. "Can you make it easy on us?"

"Blood pressure's good—130 over 80," Mike said to Ben, his partner.

"I told you—" Francesca started again, just as there was banging behind us. The guy in the back was knocking his head into the car's window.

"Cut it out!" I shouted.

"I gotta piss!"

I rolled my eyes, turning back to Francesca. "Sweetheart." I bent low to wink and try my charm. "We still gotta do some paperwork. Can we please get your last name?"

"Hips are good, ankles are fine—" Mike was still assessing.

"Stop touching me! My doctor will come."

"You have a doctor who makes house calls—in this city?" Ben looked surprised.

"Francesca," Jasper tried getting her attention.

"Palmieri—P-a-l-m-i-e-r-i—and my Ralphie, my son, always takes care of me." She beamed back at Jasper.

My partner raised a brow, looking from the car and back to Mrs. Palmieri. "Ralphie Palmieri is your son?"

I laughed, looking at the car, too.

"He most certainly is." She seemed proud.

After taking Mrs. Palmieri's statement and wishing her well, we went to the station to drop off Fucko.

Before we left the car, Jasper stared at him. We both did, highly amused. "Do you know who you just robbed?" He quirked a brow.

I was still laughing and trying to hide it.

"What do I care?" Fucko replied.

"That was Ralphie Palmieri's mother, you moron—"

His eyes widened in shock, his face ghostly pale suddenly. "The mobster? Ralphie Palmieri, the mobster?" Fucko was panicking now.

Jasper and I both chuckled as we booked him. Then we had a cup of coffee, used the rest rooms, and right before we were going to leave, Chuck at the desk received a call.

"She's not pressing charges," he said, unlocking the cell.

"What?" Adam, previously known as Fucko, gripped the bars tightly. "You guys can't let me go, man. Can't—he'll get me. I didn't mean it—"

"Save it." Jasper pried his fingers loose and pushed him out.

"I have names . . . That liquor store robbery? Where that clerk got shot? I know who did it." He rushed out. "I'll tell you. Just let me stay." Now he wanted to stay locked up to avoid a mobster.

Jasper and I exchanged a look.

"The robbery?" Detective Serrano happened to hear our guy.

"He's all yours," I said, giving him a nudge and walking away.

"Cullen—Whitlock. I got a call." Chuck hollered. "Come'ere and take it." He waved a piece of paper, shoveling a donut into his mouth.

Jasper was still too busy, engrossed by detective work—still too chickenshit to take the exam. He lingered by the desks, trying overhear whatever our perp told Det. Serrano.

"Whitlock!" I widened my arms.

He nodded, coming toward the front desk. "What do we got?"

I looked down to the address that was given, rapidly walking out to the car. "The M15 bus stop on 92nd—harassment." I shrugged.

"Let's do this."

We hopped into the car, turning on the lights and sirens. We got there in no time, and nothing looked out of the ordinary. The bus stop was empty, except for a young blonde.

"Officers!" She sprinted the few feet to us.

I stopped her by holding onto her forearms. She practically fell into my lap as I exited the car. "Slow down."

Then she started to speak a million words per minute. She was frightened and looked about eighteen.

"Relax," Jasper said, taking her from me to get some facts. "I need you calm down and tell us what happened."

She took in a large breath. " . . . this guy was staring at me. He hangs around the library on 91st, where I go. He is just always staring at me. Like just now. I was standing at the bus stop, and he kept looking. Then he came over and just started talking to me—he asked for my phone number."

"Are you sure he just wasn't trying to ask you out on a date?" I asked.

She shook her head no. "Look, I am not an idiot. He knew things. He knew my name, m-my class schedule—when the bus came, I didn't get on it, so he didn't either, and then he kept talking—asking me to marry him. I got scared, so . . . I called you." She slumped her shoulders.

"Ma'am, did he make any threatening statements, suggest he was going to hurt you?" I asked, ready to take notes with my pen and paper.

"N-no . . . but he knows everything about me."

Jasper looked up and down the block. "Where is he now? Is he still around?"

She shook her head no. "He saw you guys coming. He left toward Third—" She pointed. "So . . . can you arrest him or something?"

"I'm sorry, but it doesn't sound like he broke any laws," I said.

"Wait!" she yelled. "He-he can just harass me like that—find out everything about me? About my family?"

Jasper and I exchanged another look. "You say he was heading uptown on Third?" Jasper asked.

"Yeah." She nodded.

"Do you know his name?" My pen was still ready.

"No, but he's old—looks about thirty." She shrugged.

Jasper's face fell, and I hid my grin.

My partner just turned thirty a few weeks back.

"He had blond hair—it was long, and he wore it in a ponytail. He also wore a blue suit, and, and he carried one of those marble notebooks, which he's always writing things down in."

Jasper nodded, jerking his head to the street.

"We'll see if we can find him," I assured her. "We can't arrest him, but we can let him know that his affections are…unwarranted." I smiled.

She frowned. "Thanks." Her gaze stayed on the sidewalk as she shifted her backpack.

"You're OK," I reminded her. "We gotta go . . . what was your name again?" I knew she didn't give it.

"Jessica Stanley."

I waved, backing up to enter the car.

Jessica slid into the bus stop, peering up and down the street.

"Do you think she was serious?" I clicked my seatbelt in place.

Jasper blew out a breath. "We'll find out."

We took off in the direction we were instructed to, driving slowly and looking every which way.

"So…what happened with Maria?" I scanned the corners, straining my eyes for this guy.

"Uh . . . she couldn't imagine being a cop's wife. It's probably because I don't make six figures a year."

"Just like that?" I snapped my fingers. "And she figured this out now?"

Jasper continued to drive. "It just—"

Walking at a snail's pace was our guy—greasy blond hair in a ponytail, navy blue suit, and he hugged a marble notebook to his chest. "Stop the car!" I hollered, always eager when I find what I'm looking for.

Jasper pulled over, but it wasn't an exciting chase. We left the car, while that guy was still walking.

"Excuse me, sir?"

He kept walking.

"Hey!" Jasper shouted.

He ignored us, picking up the pace.

"Buddy, hang on." I started walking faster.

He didn't bother to run. He turned to face us, and he didn't even look alarmed.

"Were you harassing a girl. . . down by the bus stop on 92nd Street a couple of minutes—a little while ago?" I asked.

He laughed. "I wasn't _harassing_ her."

Jasper stepped toward him. "She said you were pretty persistent. You knew a lot of details about her."

"It's illegal to talk to a girl?" He backed away from us, hugging that notebook.

"What's in the book?" I tapped it with my finger.

"Stuff . . . you know . . . that I write down." He grinned.

"Like what?" Jasper reached for it.

"Hey, I have rights!" he exclaimed.

Jasper and I laughed at him.

"It's private stuff!" This guy definitely seemed weird, like, off his meds or something.

"Whoa!" I put my hands up. "Relax . . . What's your name, sir?"

"Brown, Leroy Brown." He tilted his head, his eyes boring into mine.

My partner and me had a good chuckle after that one.

"Can I see some ID . . . Mr. Brown?" I raised a brow, holding my hand out.

"What for?" He looked smug. "I haven't broken any laws . . . haven't you ever heard of the Bill of Rights?"

I groaned, stepping toward him. "Well, here's the thing, Mr. Brown. That girl you 'talked' to, she has rights too . . . I'm going to suggest that you take our showing up as a definite no on her part—she doesn't want to go out with you." I took a deep breath.

He looked from Jasper to me, his beady little eyes moving. "Maybe we got our signals crossed." He grinned. "She smiled at me, though."

Jasper leaned into him. "But we're clear on you leaving her alone from now on, correct?"

He nodded. "Yeah . . ."

"Great." I ran my hand through my hair, realizing I left my hat in my locker.

"Can I go?"

Jasper hopped to the side, moving his arm with a flourish as he gestured toward the street.

Mr. Brown quickly left us, and we watched him walk away.

"People are so fucking weird." A negative comment fell from Jasper's mouth.

I was surprised. "Yeah, they are."

We entered the car again and managed to talk for a bit. Jasper informed me of the gory details of his breakup, and they didn't sound too horrible. It sounded like they spoke civilly and just parted ways.

I'm never that lucky. There are usually tears, things get thrown at me—the commitment phobic—and we never stay friends after.

My mother, who hates that I became a cop, wishes I could settle down with a nice girl already. I'm hellbent on the fact that nice girls don't exist anymore. After all, I'm twenty-three. Why do I have to settle down now? I'm content to live the life of a bachelor. I work too much. There aren't many women. There isn't enough time for me to go out and meet any. There's only been one since I started the job last year, and that didn't last longer than two weeks.

Emmett McCarty always finds the time, and I envy him. He works alongside Police Officer Barbie—even I can admit she's better to look at than Jasper—and he has a different woman warming his bed at night.

I know because we share an apartment.

We were at the academy together. He used to live out in Queens, and I still lived with my parents. We were fast friends and even faster roommates. He doesn't care how loud I play my music—play my keyboard—and he pays half the rent. What's not to like? He cooks, too, and his lady friends usually have one for me.

At least that's what happened while we attended the academy. I don't meet his one-night stands anymore. I just can't be bothered.

" _. . . convenience story robbery in progress, 96__th__ and—" _Came through on the scanner.

"_This is 78-Bravo. We can handle it. Over and out."_ I heard Emmett's loud mouth on the radio, answering a call that we're closest to, I think.

"He doesn't even know where he's going!" I shouted, my thumb already on the button. "Central—this is 78-Alpha. Can you repeat that? Over."

"_78-Alpha, that was 96__th__ and Park." _

"Thanks," I sighed, as Jasper turned on the lights and siren.

We actually got there just as McCarty and Hale did. Our bumpers nearly touched, and I could see the dismay on Emmett's face. "I said we got it!" he shouted.

Jasper laughed, leaving the car. "Is that right, cowboy?"

"Oh, don't start with that shit." Hale chuckled.

Jasper shook his head. "You know better, Hale . . . It's sad they put a trigger-happy rookie with a trigger-happy—"

"Save it!"

Emmett's partner and my partner don't exactly get along. I think they're cousins or something. I know they're related and come from a long line of cops.

"We doing this or what?" Emmett rapidly approached the store's door, while we ran behind him. He's always got to be the hero—the one who gets to the most interesting calls first. Dispatch never said if the perp was armed or not, so we all grabbed for our holsters, too.

Sadly, when we entered the store it was empty. There was nothing but a mess, and a scared clerk lying on the ground.

"50, 51, 52—" The clerk was counting.

I grabbed Jasper's arm and pulled him back, just as Hale did the same to Emmett. "You got your robbery. See ya!" I waved, pushing Jasper out of the store. There was no live action, and there was no way I was doing any paperwork for it.

We laughed, entering the RMP. "You're learning, Cullen."

I smiled, buckling myself in.

Then we circled around the neighborhood, waiting for dispatch to give out the description of the convenience store robber. It's better to be out on the street, rather than wait for the victim to give it. Sure enough, after Emmett and Rosalie called it in, the radio told us what to look for.

"_White male, early forties. He's wearing a yellow shirt, black and white striped pants, and he had a bald head, but with red fringe—the clerk says he looked like a clown." _

We laughed at dispatch, and then we went in search of a clown . . .

Because we always steal their collars—get the credit, while they're still filling out forms.

"_Bozo is eastbound on Lexington—armed." _We heard Emmett on the radio. They must have told the clerk they'd be back.

Soon, we saw Hale and McCarty's squad car going westbound.

"My cousin has the shittiest sense of direction." Jasper shook his head. "McCarty's from Queens, right?"

"Yeah," I said. We were at a light and saw them pass us, going the opposite way—away from where the perp supposedly was.

As I looked at Jasper, I spied some dude who fit the description casually walking across the street. "You think . . .?" I pointed.

Bozo walked up to a payphone, checking for loose change.

"How many clowns do you think walk around this city?" The sirens blared, and Jasper made a U-turn, coming to a stop on the other side of the avenue.

"A lot, actually." I nodded.

Bozo saw us and then he took off. He was fast, but not fast enough—trying to run in those oversized clown shoes. They were red, too, and I took him down with ease. He put up a fight, and we drew a crowd.

When we loaded him into the backseat, we got a call about a domestic disturbance. We instructed dispatch that we were on our way back. Jasper and I did have to fill out forms.

I heard Emmett curse us on the radio while we entered the station.

"Hey, Edward!" Heidi waved. She was handcuffed to a chair, wearing a skimpy halter top and a miniskirt. She's a frequent flyer, and I can't count how many times she'd been busted for prostitution. Heidi is actually a great informant—what better way to find out the word on the street than from someone who's always on the corner.

Most cops just let her go.

"What'd you do?" I asked.

She made a face. "I was giving some balding, fat ass a hummer when some child caught us. He's got nothin', nothin' . . . I met that dude in a bar." She turned to Jacob, who's out of the academy a month, and spit in his direction.

He was at a desk, keeping his head down as he wrote out his report.

"Did you see any money handled?" I asked him.

He looked up with wide eyes. "You, too? He picked her up at the corner of—"

"All right, so I met him on the street." Heidi shrugged. "I had a few beers . . . from that bar." She winked at me.

"Give her a ticket for misconduct, a desk appearance," I sighed.

"Yeah, yeah . . . " Jacob grumbled. He's really a good kid, but carries around his regulations and protocols book in his pocket.

My first day, Jasper threw mine in the garbage. Turns out, it's not all black and white. There's a shitload of gray out there, where your own instincts and judgments come into play.

After our breaks, we did another patrol. Luckily, everything seemed calm, and we were just cruising.

I started it, but Jasper got in on it. I found myself humming the melody to "Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown." And then we were singing it.

Dispatch interrupted with a domestic dispute again, or it could have been a different one. We were really close, and we were able to see a woman fly at some guy with a bat.

"Hold it!" Jasper shouted through the loud speaker. Then we left the car.

The woman had the bat raised, ready swing.

"Lady!" I yelled. "You hit him with that bat you're going to spend the night in jail!"

Jasper was close enough to reach for it. "Give it up," he said.

She gritted her teeth, handing it over.

"She's crazy—bitch is crazy!" That dude hollered—'cause that's all anyone does is yell.

"Calm down." I got between them, and then they both started shouting over each other. "One at a time!" I waved my hands, and they went at it again.

"Enough!" When Jasper decides to scream, you can hear it blocks away. "Now you first," he told the woman.

"I was doing the laundry _like I always do_—washing his pants. I found a bunch'a rubbers—all different colors. He's sleeping around with a bunch of whores." She went for him again, and I blocked her.

"Is that all?" I asked.

"I have my fucking tubes tied. What the fuck you need the condoms for, Bradley?"

"Stop," I warned before it got out of hand again.

Behind Jasper, Hale and McCarty came to a stop. "Oh . . . it's the social worker." Emmett taunted Jasper.

We ignored them.

"Do you have anything else to add?" I asked the husband.

"Bitch is crazy. She hit me with a skillet. I want to press charges!"

"You sure about that?" Jasper walked toward him.

"She's going to kill me!"

"With good reason—"

"Shut up!" I snapped at her.

There are certain things you shouldn't say in front of a police officer, like, what she said. I could already see the excited glint in Emmett's eyes, taking a collar from us. He hasn't made any arrests today. He needs one, and this is just a scorned woman.

Okay, so it's a total double standard. If it was the other way around, I would have hauled this dude away already. But the woman standing before me with the tear-stained cheeks was five feet tall and maybe one hundred pounds.

How much damage did she honestly do?

"You want to press charges?" Jasper asked.

"Yes! Arrest her!"

His wife just cried. She wasn't going anywhere—about to run.

My partner walked up to the husband. "I'd say you have a lot of apologizing to do already," he whispered.

"My tubes are tied . . . we're married. What the fuck do you need condoms for?"

"She's crazy and dangerous!" The husband stepped away.

Jasper shrugged. "She doesn't look dangerous to me. A woman finding out her husband's catting around on her is bound to make her crazy . . ." He paused. "If you want us to arrest her, we will . . . but do yourself a favor and don't."

"Oh, come on!" Emmett was getting upset. "He's got bruises."

"Welts." The husband lifted his shirt, but there was nothing there.

"Just stop," I said.

Everyone became quiet.

"Is this over?" Jasper stood between them. "Do you still want to press charges?"

And after the husband shook his head no, we were in our cars again.

"You—with the social work." Emmett laughed, hanging out of his car window.

"Solving problems, McCarty—that's all we're doing." Jasper started the car. "It's not necessary to arrest every single person who has a conflict. They're people, they have bad days and good days, they're just like us."

"Yeah, yeah . . . Let's go, Rosie." Emmett pounded his fist on the door, and they were gone.

We watched them speed down the street—off to the next big bust that doesn't exist—and shook our heads. "I'm glad you get it, Cullen."

In truth, I didn't, but I can understand thinking logically and not arresting everyone. "Yeah." I needed another cup of coffee.

Dispatch gave us the address for a residence. They requested an officer come out to their home—there was a peeping Tom situation with assault. It sounded odd, but we were told that the perp had taken off.

We speedily drove to the apartment building, double-parking on the city street, and ran up the steps.

"Yeah?" a small, feminine voice answered.

"Ma'am, it's the police," Jasper said.

The door opened quickly, and then this teeny, little thing pulled Jasper into her apartment. "Good, you're here."

I noticed we were on the second floor. "Did he go out your fire escape?" I pointed to the window, walking toward it.

"Oh!" the tiny brunette exclaimed. "I. . ."

"You were assaulted?" I stepped in, since Jasper seemed stuck on stupid. His gaze was a bit vacant as he stared at her. He had his pad and pen in his hands, yet he wasn't writing anything down. "He had a weapon?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. They say if you say that—the police come quicker."

"Ma'am . . ." I chuckled, trailing off. Reaching for my pen and pad, I asked, "Some guy was looking at you? What did he look like?"

"No . . . listen, the first time I called they dismissed me—refused to send someone here." She had tears in her eyes.

"Then . . . what's the matter?" I looked around the small space decorated in pink tones and smelling like flowers. This was definitely a single woman's apartment.

"My friend might be hurt—I don't know." She danced from foot-to-foot. "She comes home every day at five, and she's not home yet. They wouldn't help me when I called."

"Uh . . ." I didn't know where to start. "What's your name?"

"Alice."

"Alice," Jasper repeated.

I looked to my partner and then back to Alice. "Okay . . . maybe she's out with friends or—"

"Bella doesn't have any friends. Well, besides me—Bella's my cousin." She pointed to herself. "She's home every day by five. I know because it's true. She has a touch of OCD—doesn't break away from pattern. I mean, she's not crazy. She just comes home at five. Something happened; I know it." She grabbed my hands. "Please."

"Alice." I took her hands from mine. "Maybe she got something to eat? Maybe she—there are a million and one explanations on where she might be. How old is she?"

"Twenty," she whispered. "We're home from school every day at this time. I'm downtown at NYU, and she's uptown at Columbia. We're from Washington State," she cried.

"Calm down." Jasper finally spoke. "What does your cousin look like?"

Now it was my turn to stare at my partner like he had three heads. "She could just be out. Does she have a cell phone?" I asked.

"I called thirty times—all calls go to voice mail." Alice started sobbing. "Something's wrong—I know it. I know it." She grabbed a picture off the entertainment center. "We've been inseparable since birth. Maybe we go to different schools now, but . . . I can feel it in my gut, my bones. Something's wrong."

"Relax." My partner soothed her.

Alice continued. "She has brown hair. She's a little bit taller than me—look." She shoved the picture in our faces. Her cousin was gorgeous, absolutely breathtaking. "She wore a green sweater today. I keep telling her to throw it out."

"And she hangs out near Columbia?" Jasper asked.

My thumb caressed her pink cheek in the photo. She looked happy, and her chocolate brown eyes were so deep.

"No. She just goes to school there. If anything . . . Bella hangs around here, the library . . . She's never this late getting home!"

"Okay," Jasper said softly. "She's only two hours late."

"Never!" Alice shouted. "Aren't you listening to me? Something's happened. Something bad. I can feel it, and I need help—we have to find her."

I groaned, tearing my eyes away from the picture. "And you checked in with all her friends—a boyfriend?"

"We don't have boyfriends—"

"Pity." Jasper blurted.

We ignored that.

"I'm telling you . . ."

"Look, I'm sure she's going to come walking through that door any minute talking about how something came up." I reached back for one of my cards. "If she doesn't . . . we'll say, come home by nine, you call us and we'll come right back."

Alice collapsed back on her sofa. "Why aren't you helping me now?"

"Because people aren't technically missing until a certain amount of time passes." I rushed out. "I'm sorry, but—"

Alice gasped. "There's this man who's been bothering her. What if he took her?"

"Listen—" I started.

"No! You listen!" She stood up and poked my chest. "I know something happened!"

"Relax." Jasper held her biceps. "Tell us more—there's some guy bothering her?"

I groaned, and I couldn't believe he was encouraging this chick. Like I'd said before, there are a million and one reasons why she might be late. Also, Alice could probably think up several different scenarios if she concentrated hard enough, has a decent imagination.

"Yes, some guy's been harassing her at the library. Bella goes to the one a few blocks away." Which is the same spot Jessica said she was followed from earlier.

Jasper and I exchanged a glance, and I raised an eyebrow—because now a bunch of scenarios were now flashing through _my_ mind.

"She reads there on Saturdays—a few days a week, actually. But we go there after dinner to study. She wouldn't be there now. It's late and she does NOT break away from her pattern! She should have been home two hours ago! Aren't you listening? That's why I know—"

"Shhhh." My partner soothed her. "Tell us more about this guy." Jasper looked to me, shrugging a shoulder, which meant we'd check out the guy—just make sure he wasn't behind anything.

"He's creepy, and he has blond hair, and he kept asking her out—"

"Do you know his name?" I asked.

She shook her head no. "He walks around with a notebook."

I nodded. "We'll look into it. In the meantime, you keep trying her cell. Call us with any information . . . _if_ you get any. You'll hear from us soon."

"Thank you!" She threw herself into Jasper's arms. "Can I come with you guys? Please?"

"Absolutely not," he said. "I apologize, ma'am."

"What am I supposed to do?" She leaned away, throwing her hands in the air. "Bella..." She collapsed back in sobs again. "Nothing can happen to her...she has to be okay."

"We'll do the best we can," Jasper said.

"Hey...maybe she met a guy?" I smiled, trying to squash her fears. "Maybe she—"

"No." Alice's lip quivered. "You don't know Bella."

"Calm down. We have to go. You keep trying her cell." Jasper pointed.

We left the apartment with the picture. I held it in my hand as we walked the two blocks over to the library. When we spoke to Jessica earlier about Leroy Brown, we weren't far from here at all.

We walked up to the counter. "Is this where you check out books?" I leaned in.

"Can I help you find something, officer?" The librarian turned her computer screen away from me. I already saw her Facebook page open.

Jasper stepped in. "We're looking for Leroy Brown—his home address? He comes to this library."

The librarian shook her head. "Library records are confidential. Do you have a warrant or something?"

"Can you give us a break?" I groaned out. "Please . . . it's been a long day."

"We were hoping you'd help us out." Jasper smiled.

She pursed his lips, raising a bitch brow, but she did turn back to her computer. "Leroy Brown." She hit a key loudly. Then she slowly shook her head. "No record of a Leroy Brown."

"Okay . . . thanks anyway." Jasper tapped the counter. He turned to walk away, but I stepped up—my stomach knotting.

Jasper's always talking about instincts . . . and we already took Alice's worries seriously. We should see this through, I thought.

"He's in his thirties, receding hairline, but wears a blond ponytail. He walks around with a composition book—he bothers women. I know he hangs out here." I rushed out.

The librarian frowned, forming a sneer. "James Bryant." She turned to her computer and typed in some keys. "He sits in periodicals all day. Never reads anything, just harasses young women when they come in."

I nodded. "Did you find him?"

She turned the computer screen toward me. "Checks out medical books, mostly—Female Anatomy, Gynecology. Every time he brings a book back, we debate burning them."

I reached for my notepad, but Jasper pulled on my arm. "I got it . . . thanks!" He shouted to the librarian, and we were on our way to this guy's apartment.

Once we were in the car, I realized what a long shot this was. "She might not even be there."

Jasper pulled way from the curb. "After being rejected, us approaching him . . . if he's really sick, he wasn't taking no for an answer again."

I sat back, giving my jumbled stomach a rub.

"After being on the job for years . . . you just know things, know how the perp will react." He shook his head. "I wished we had a reason to bring him in earlier. Sick fuck."

"Yeah, but—"

"If it's the same guy . . . he might have taken her." Jasper nodded. "That Alice has good intuition. If they're as close as she says . . . who knows? She could be right, was right for calling us over. Maybe—let's just hope we get there, they're there, or she's not there at all." He showed me his crossed fingers. "Hopefully she's just screwing around, but people with OCD hardly veer off their routines—my brother has that shit."

I just shrugged my shoulders, and I didn't know Jasper had a brother. "Right."

Nervous as hell, we ignored the radio—doing what McCarty and Hale do most of the day, letting us take the calls. If we don't answer, they have no choice but to.

The apartment building was a large one, and only three blocks from the library. We got in the front door when someone else was leaving. The hallways reeked of urine, and we heard the miscellaneous sounds as we passed each door.

As we approached Mr. Bryant's place, all we heard was very loud music—classical—Bach. It was insanely loud, so we pounded on the door. "Police, open up!" We kept at it until James slowly opened the door.

"Can I help you?" he shouted over the music.

"Uh . . . can you turn it down?" Jasper pointed.

"Oh." He smiled. "Is that why you're here, because of the stereo? I'll turn it down." He went to close the door on us.

I kept it open with my foot. "Go turn it down!"

He left the door, going back into his apartment, and we followed in after him.

There were books and crap, piles and piles of different things everywhere—trinkets, magazines, even some dolls. This guy was a pack rat.

"I didn't say you could come in!" He had yet to turn off the music.

"Oh," Jasper said. "I thought you said we could—that we were welcome. Isn't that what you heard, Cullen?"

I nodded. "Loud and clear." I reached around him for the stereo. I had just started to lower the volume when I heard a noise. "What was that?"

When I turned, James pushed Jasper and went for the door. I lunged for him, but Jasper already had him, and we were able to cuff him. If someone runs, they're doing it for a reason, so they won't get caught. We were correct in cuffing his ass.

And I still heard that odd noise, a faint tapping. "Where is she?" I punched him in the nose, getting him so good he fell back. "Answer me!" I elbowed him.

He wouldn't even look at me. "I love her!"

"Go . . . look around." Jasper pushed me, and then reached for his radio. "Central, this is 78-Alpha requesting back up and a bus at …" He called for EMS, and I briefly heard Emmett answer the call first.

Walking down his hall, I didn't have to look anywhere. I followed the sound—a quiet scraping, a muffled cry, and some soft banging. As soon as I saw light under a door, I kicked it open, and the sight I was granted . . . It broke my heart and made me want to vomit, but most of all it made me want to kill that asshole.

There, crying on the floor, was Bella—her hands held high, tied to a towel rack with duct tape going around her wrists so many times. I wouldn't be able to break it. Her feet were free, but her mouth was gagged, and she was only in her bra and panties.

I dropped to the floor quickly to undo the tape around her mouth. "You're okay."

She slumped, sobbing, as I uncovered her mouth.

"Shhh . . . shhh." I rushed to untie her hands. My own fumbled, not able to unravel it fast enough.

"Fuck," Jasper was in the doorway. "McCarty's got him . . ."

I was still trying to free her. "Go get something to cover her with!" I shouted. "Hale, too . . . bring Hale in here!"

Jasper disappeared from the door.

"He can't hurt you now." I stared into those deep—expressive—and now sad, yet beautiful eyes. "You're okay." My hands circled over her wrists, gently rubbing where the tape was.

She surprised me by hugging me tightly—shaking like a leaf in my arms.

"You're okay." I didn't know what else to say, covering her with my body, and trying to keep her warm. "Bella, you're all right." I rubbed her hair.

Of course, she was still a sobbing mess.

"Sweetheart?" Hale bent down, wrapping a blanket over her shoulders. "Are you hurt?" she asked.

Bella was still holding onto me, but shook her head no.

"Did he assault you?" She turned to her radio. "Central, I need that bus at this location on a rush."

"No," she cried. "He didn't get the chance to." Her voice kept breaking. "It was time, but, but—" She fisted my shirt with both hands, burying her head into my chest. "He touched me while he undressed me. That's it. That's it . . ."

I held the blanket on top of her. "What's your last name, Bella?"

She sniffled, swallowing and looking up to me. "How do you know my first?"

"Alice," I said. "She's so worried about you." I was too, at this point.

"Al-Alice . . ." That started a fresh round of tears. "I want Alice."

"We'll get her," I said.

"We should let crime scene get in here . . . get her to a hospital so they can do a kit," Rosalie instructed.

I nodded, agreeing with her.

"He didn't—he only kissed me. He didn't get the chance to, um, do that."

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Since—since I left the subway at about 4:45. He brought me in here and left me. I don't—I don't know." I barely understood her, she was crying hard. "You saved me. You saved me." She held me even tighter.

I hugged her back. "You'll be fine. This is traumatic, but you're just shaken up."

"Really, Cullen? She was just kidnapped and—" Rosalie placed her hand on her hip, staring at me. "Come on, hon." She took Bella away from me, ushering her toward the detectives.

I couldn't keep my eyes off the beautiful brunette as she walked away from me. She gazed back, too, but then I saw Jasper and Emmett hauling James away. I was quick to walk with them, leaving the apartment.

In the stairwell, my buddies held him still, while I got a few more hits in on him. He was bloodied and beaten by the time he made it to the squad car. After all, he _was_ resisting arrest.

It was procedure like always after we left. Bella would talk to the detectives, get checked out by EMS, and whether or not she had to go to the hospital, she'd probably be home within an hour or two.

That was comforting, although nothing truly went by procedure.

Unfortunately, James tripped over something on his way in, and Jasper dropped him. He fell on his face, and I spied a tooth on the sidewalk after we picked him back up.

This guy was so accident-prone—kept falling.

Once he was in the cage, asking for medical attention, I sat down to fill out my DD-5 forms. My mind was shit, though, and Jasper took care of them while I had a cup of coffee.

"She was lucky," Rosalie said. "Very fucking lucky." She shook her head. "If you guys hadn't shown up . . . Geez. I don't even want to imagine. That was a hundred in one shot—getting there before he did anything, or killed her. That's one lucky girl."

I nodded. "That was still horrible . . . even if he didn't get to—" Offenders like James should just be shot on the spot—no one would miss them.

"How did you guys know?" Emmett asked.

Jasper grinned. "We're problem solvers. We look for clues, and we never dismiss a damn thing." He gave me a high-five, only I was frowning because we were ready to blow Alice off. Well, I was ready to blow her off, and Rosalie was correct. If we didn't get there when we did, who knows what that sick fuck would have done to her. "It's not all about arrests and the juiciest case," he told Emmett, "some people just need help . . ." He looked to me. "We work this beat every day. How come we never saw them before?"

I shrugged. "They're not troublemakers."

He nodded. "That Alice chick—you think she was twenty, like . . . the Swan girl?" He stared down to the papers in his hand, looking like someone shot his dog.

I winced. "They both were—they're young."

"Who?" Emmett again.

"Stay away from those girls," Rosalie warned. "They're babies. That one we just rescued . . . she doesn't need another pervert looking to get into her pants." She gave me a wet Willy.

I smacked her hand away, knowing she was correct and agreeing. But I knew I'd be seeing Bella again in court.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. **

**I hope you enjoyed it!**

**I'm not 100% sure what I'll be doing with this: a ficlet? A full-length fic? or maybe a two-shot? You guys tell me. How was this? Worth elongating? **

**Thanks again!**


	2. Fifteen

**Ste****phenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

**Just an FYI: I'm not 100% sure if this is a full-length or a fic-let, but I'm continuing. Those of you who are familiar with my stories, I'm trying something different—shorter chapters. And I'm sticking with Edward's POV for the time being. There's no schedule either. I plan to update when I get chaps back from the beta - after I've written them. **

"**Offbeat"**

**Chapter Two: Fifteen**

_**I**_'m not afraid of much, really—not blood, or snakes, or rats. I'm not even afraid of heights. Although, one time—back when I was first on the job—I stepped over the fence in the middle of the George Washington Bridge to help a jumper get back, two hundred and fifteen feet to the water.

But everyone has something that makes their skin crawl. Something that wakes them up from a deep sleep in the middle of the night—drenched in sweat, reaching for the bedside lamp . . .

My nightmare maybe comes to visit once a month. It stalks me. It slips in, bringing with it the smell of wet dirt and confined space.

See, I'm terrified of being buried alive.

The chances of that happening are slim to none, but right up there with being buried alive . . . And it's not even really a fear. I just . . . the thought of entering the sewer makes my skin crawl, as most can imagine. The scent of garbage mixed with shit, mixed with piss, and God knows what else.

"Hey, any luck?" I shouted down to Jasper. He'd dropped his cuff keys down the sewage drain while he was wrangling a perp.

"No!"

"You want me to call the precinct—have them send someone over with another set?"

"No!" he screamed.

"Come on, Whitlock. You're not the first guy to lose a set of keys—"

"I said no! Come help me look!" He sounded frustrated and angry, when I'd never heard him like that before.

"No!" It was my turn to shout that shit. "Besides, I have court in an hour. I can't go there stinking . . ." I leaned back against the RMP, sipping my coffee. "Watch your step…" I told a lady. The cover in the sidewalk was missing, where Jasper went down. "Yo!"

"What?" Jasper replied.

"Just making sure you didn't get eaten by an alligator." If I looked, I could see him—the grate that's fenced, where you can feel the whoosh of air from the subway, when a train rolls in. I forget what it's called.

"Ha…fucking ha…"

I rolled my eyes, taking a look up and down the street. That was when McCarty and Hale pulled up. Rosalie had her brows furrowed, silently asking me what was up.

I wasn't going to say shit. They'd only rag on Jasper for weeks to come, and me—by default—as his partner.

Emmett left the car, looking put out.

"You ready?" Rosalie asked me.

"For?" I was confused.

"You and me—we gotta head to the courthouse. I officially took her statement, so I gotta go too."

"Whitlock gets to babysit me." McCarty smiled.

"Hell no!" Jasper heard that.

"What are you doing?" McCarty stared down, kneeling onto the sidewalk. "You lost something?"

"Just his dignity," I sighed, taking my hat off to scratch my head.

Emmett, despite being an asshole at times, hopped in, down into the sewer. I heard a splash, and then Jasper bitch aloud.

"Cullen!" Hale hollered.

"Jazz…I'll see you back at the house!"

"Yeah," he grumbled.

I laughed, getting into the other squad car.

"What happened?" Hale wore a smile, and she looked good—prettier than usual.

"You wearing makeup?" I jerked my chin. She usually has a plain face with her honey-blond hair tied back in a low bun. She looked that way today, but . . . I don't know.

She shook her head. "No…why? You sayin' I _need_ makeup?" She turned back into a bitch.

"Not at all." I fastened my seat belt. "You just…you look…you know."

"You hittin' on me?" she giggled. "You're not my type." Little did she know, I knew what her type was already—Emmett.

About a month ago, I woke up to take a piss at like four a.m., only to find McCarty bending Hale over one of our dining room chairs. She doesn't know that I know, but I did ask Emmett about it.

It doesn't take a genius to guess that you shouldn't be fucking your partner. It's a conflict of interest, and adding feelings . . . when we'd already take a bullet for one another . . . Maybe others haven't noticed, but his macho is up—always making sure Hale is taken care of. It's going to fuck him up in the long run. They shouldn't be partners if they continue with their relationship. It's hard enough watching your own back out here—this fucking cesspool of a jungle.

Emmett shrugged it off as something casual. Yet, Hale sneaks in after I go to bed, nearly every night. My roommate doesn't care if everyone knows, but Hale does. Plus, I caught them a month ago, but Emmett says they've been _doing-doing_ for more than that—about three months total.

All that time . . . I thought I just missed his one-night stands coming and going; meanwhile, it was really only Hale that he was fucking. They were good at hiding that shit for a while. Fuck. I'd still be in the dark if I didn't have to piss that one early morning.

"I'm not," I said as she pulled off.

"You ever been to court before?"

I nodded. "A few times."

"Well, it's Grand Jury testimony—you just tell them all about that piece-of-shit. He'll probably only get like five years." She scoffed, grimacing. "I mean…if you and Jasper hadn't arrived . . . They should lock him up for life."

Speaking of, the night we arrested James Bryant was the same night I caught them—Emmett and Rosalie—in the dining room.

A whole month has gone by since that mess.

Everyone has the right to a speedy and fair trial; however, that asshole had broken his nose when he fell. This whole time, he's been recovering from surgery, and then a complication, at the county hospital. We, us cops, never got in trouble for roughing him up a bit. Witnesses had seen him fall down . . . and then trip up the stairs—landing on his face both times.

Jasper and I were both spoken to—reprimanded for not keeping a better eye on our prisoner.

Either way, I have no regrets, although I wished he'd spent the last month in lock-up.

I haven't seen Bella Swan since. My mind often wanders, wonders how she's doing. I've seen Alice, but she didn't see me. She was leaving the subway while Jasper and I were parked across the street. He noticed her, too, wanted to talk to her. But then the radio went off.

"I remember everything." I grabbed my notepad, the old one I had snippets of my report written down in.

"Fucking traffic, man!" Hale has the mouth of a sailor, although that's an insult to sailors. The ones I've met don't have mouths like the lot of us.

"Want me to drive?"

"Can you magically make the gridlock disappear?" She raised a bitch-brow.

"What's your problem?" I asked, staring at her.

She bristled at nothing it seemed.

I sighed, content to stare out the window for the rest of the ride.

"I hope this dude goes to trial—you ever been part of a trial?"

I shook my head.

"They dig—the defense grasps at straws. If this does, you need to go over every report with a fine-toothed comb. Me, too." She snorted. "His lawyer might even bring up him being in the hospital. You better hope they don't investigate that shit further. You're only on the job like a year? You don't need Internal Affairs looking at you already."

I shrugged my shoulders, and then my stomach growled. "We have enough time to stop? I'm hungry."

"If there wasn't any fucking traffic!" she shouted, sticking her head out the window. "What gives?" she asked the officer directing cars this way and that way.

"Hang on!" the cop answered, and then—as if he were Moses—he parted the avenue, gave way for us to cross.

Rosalie was much happier after that. As we got closer to the courthouse, traffic had let up.

Every time I have to go to court, I get nervous—always hoping I don't say the wrong thing; meanwhile, all the district attorney will ask are yes and no questions, which are simple enough. It's simple enough to just tell the truth.

We were able to find a spot in front, near other RMPs, and I hopped out to stare up at the large building. The criminal courthouse is huge and houses many different departments.

"There you go." Hale jerked her thumb to a hot dog cart. "There's falafel on the corner, too." She pointed to another cart.

"Awesome." I was starving and lazy, even though I love falafel. "A dog and a Coke—mustard, ketchup." I turned to Hale. "You want? My treat." I took out a ten dollar bill, the big spender that I am.

She scrunched her nose. "No, thanks." She suddenly looked green, and then turned to vomit in the trash can.

"Awwww, lady!" The vendor didn't sound happy.

"Jesus…you okay?" I stared down at her.

She spit into the garbage, and the hot dog guy handed her a napkin. "I'm fine."

I puffed my cheeks, huffing a breath. "You got that dog?" I was worried about my own stomach.

The vendor handed me the soda, and then my hot dog followed after I paid. Quickly, as we only had fifteen minutes at best before we had to head in, I ate my food.

"That stinks."

"It's a hot dog." I had a mouthful.

"You're disgusting." She frowned at me.

I shrugged and sipped my Coke to wash it down. "You sick?"

Hale shook her head. "Pregnant."

I coughed, in shock, and then I was choking. "Wha—wha—" I rapidly guzzled my drink, my eyes watering. "Fuck." I swallowed it all down, my voice raspy. "Does—does—"

"Nobody knows. Keep your mouth shut. Last thing I need is to be put on desk duty." She stole my Coke to drink some. "Ugh...this smells like hot dog." She handed me my soda.

"Shit." I wondered how I'd be able to chill around McCarty without telling him, act normal and none-the-wiser. It really shouldn't be too difficult. "You should tell Emmett." I bit into my hot dog.

Her eyes threatened to pop out her head. "Why—"

"He's your partner." Some of my spit flew at her.

"God…don't talk with your mouth full." Hale wiped her sleeve.

"Sorry."

"I don't know what I'm doing yet," she whispered.

I nodded. "But Emmett, your partner, should know—in case he has to pick up the slack. You obviously…can't do certain things…" I gestured to her.

"What?" She had an attitude. "I'm in excellent shape. All of you—you're so sexist."

I didn't reply, thinking we were both correct to some degree.

"You done yet?" Hale asked.

I groaned, stuffing what was left into my mouth—my cheeks were big as I tried to chew it all well.

"Excuse me." Someone tapped my back.

I turned around, trying to get rid of my full mouth even faster.

Not even a foot away from me, standing in a pale gray pantsuit, her hair down and blowing in the wind, was Bella. She was gorgeous—her large chocolate brown eyes bright.

"Officer Cullen, right?"

I nodded, trying to remember how to swallow.

"You…have some ketchup." She pointed to my chin.

I heard Hale laughing loudly behind me, and I tried to ignore her—using the back of my hand to wipe my face.

"Sorry." I compulsively swallowed now, making sure I wouldn't smile and have pieces of bun in my teeth or something. "Hi."

"Hi." She just kept looking up at me.

Alice was fast behind her, running up the steps. "Hey!" She was enthusiastic and had an older gentleman following after her. "Officer Cullen!" Alice hugged me.

I awkwardly embraced her back. "Hello."

"Why are you here?" Alice asked me.

"Um…to testify on Miss Swan's behalf." I cautiously looked to Bella, and she was still staring . . . jaw slack, mouth open, and still wide-eyed as ever.

"Are you—how have you been?" I asked her.

She grinned. "I've been well. Thank you for asking."

"She's still having nightmares," Alice said.

"Alice!" Bella blushed, a light crimson gracing her cheeks, seeming embarrassed.

"Ladies..." The older dude stopped to stand next to them, sizing me up.

"Oh, Uncle Charlie…this is Officer Cullen." Alice gestured to me.

I put my hand out. "How you doin'?"

"That's my dad." Bella pointed.

"Oh…" I nodded. "Mr. Swan—"

"_Chief_ Swan," he corrected me, shaking my hand, and he had a strong grip.

"Okay." I turned to see Hale looking at us curiously. "We should probably go in." I tilted my head.

As we all trailed into the courthouse, Alice sidled up to me. She linked her arm with mine while we walked through the lobby. Hale already knew where to go, so we all followed her. Then we were instructed to wait until the court officer came out to get us.

"She's been in therapy," Alice told me.

"Oh…" Looking over to Bella, she'd heard everything Alice had been saying, yet she never said a word.

"That's not a being kidnapped thing—being quiet is a Bella thing." Alice kept going.

I nodded, pursing my lips.

"I'm sure Officer Cullen would appreciate—" Chief Swan started, only to be waved at by Alice.

"He_ wants_ to know." She nudged me, and she wasn't wrong. I kind of did—was curious about Bella, wanted to make sure she was cool.

"Your shoe is scuffed." Bella pointed to my boot.

"Tell her you'll get it fixed," Alice whispered.

"Um…" I leaned over to see her. "I have a new pair at home—just waiting to be worn."

Bella furrowed her brow, staring at my feet. "You could probably smooth it out with polish or dye. I can do it for you—"

"I'll fix it," I said.

Bella actually relaxed, her shoulders slumping, and I shook my head—my eyes widening because Chief Swan caught me. Okay, so I looked at Bella as though she was nuts. Gorgeous, but has a few screws loose. The girl hadn't said a word, except to point out bullshit flaws—like the ketchup and my fucked boots.

We waited around for about a half-hour while Alice told me a lot about Bella, Charlie—excuse me, Chief Swan—and herself. They were from a small town in Washington called Forks. I'd never heard of it before, but it sounded fascinating—very teeny town, surrounded by wildlife, vast forests of green. Chief Swan interjected, started talking about fishing, which I sort of drowned out.

I'm not a fish and game kinda guy.

I'm a Playstation, pizza, and women kind of dude.

Alice is studying something—finance, I'd drowned her out, too—kept my eyes on Bella as she watched the people coming and going. She never said a word, but would smile on occasion at whatever Alice was laughing—talking about. Bella wants to be an English teacher, and she's studying literature—she reads a lot, has never had a boyfriend—which she frowned about—she knits, is a vegetarian, and Alice whispered something about Bella's fascination with porn.

That made me laugh. It was funny. I can get down with some porn, too.

After a while, I sort of realized what Alice was doing. She was trying to "sell" Bella to me—trying to get me to get to know her, and that was cool. I found myself wanting to know these things, but only within this moment—out of boredom—although deep down I really didn't care.

"Tell us about you," Alice said. "Don't you wanna know, Bella?"

Bella nodded, looking my way. "You didn't shave this morning."

I rubbed the stubble on my chin and neck. "No…"

"You'll get used to that." Alice waved a hand. "She's nervous, too. Usually, she's not…well, she's not always like this—this blunt or this quiet." She nudged Bella. "Can you stop?"

"It's him," Bella whispered.

"I know, but…" Alice giggled, turning back to me. "Can you tell her you're just a regular guy? Not Superman?"

Hale chuckled and pushed my shoulder. "He's an average Joe with slightly better looks."

I pointed to my unofficial partner for the afternoon. "She hit the nail on the head. I don't always shave. I'm a messy eater, and I have scuffed boots." I winked at Bella.

"I have split-ends." She smiled, combing the bottom of her long hair.

"It's beautiful." I reached to touch a lock of her brown strands, and then Chief Swan coughed into his fist.

I took my hand back.

"Is this going to take all day?" he asked. "I'm sorry—I just—I'm anxious," he admitted, loosening his tie.

Then we all looked to the heavy double doors to the Grand Jury room when they opened.

"I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting." ADA Varner widened his arms, looking apologetic. "I just got a call from Mr. Bryant's public defender." It was his turn to loosen his tie. "Miss Swan, he's agreed to a plea bargain—"

"Whoa!" Chief Swan put a hand up. "This is open and shut—I want this fuck—excuse me—I want him put away for as long as possible." He placed a hand on Bella's shoulder.

"Mr. Swan, I understand. But what Isabella has been through was a traumatic event. Should she really have to live it again? Going through a trial might not be the best thing. We got him. He's pleading guilty to second-degree kidnapping, which is a B felony, and sexual misconduct. Listen, we can meet later and discuss this in length," he looked down to his watch, "but my offer was fifteen years—"

"Wow!" Hale nodded. "Good job." She shook the ADA's hand.

I nodded along, smiling.

"That's good?" Alice asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I mean, fifteen years is better than the five he might have gotten . . . since, you know—" Bella's eyes locked to mine, and I was suddenly tongue-tied. "Without intercourse—thank God it didn't come to that—or any other mitigating factors, evidence—they really couldn't prove the sexual misconduct. It was going to be Bella's word against his. The kidnapping was proven, but . . ." I trailed off, averting my gaze.

"I understand," Bella said.

Peeking back at her, she didn't show too much emotion.

"Thank you all for coming down." ADA Varner shook our hands, going down the line, and Bella declined, rubbing her palms along her thighs.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome." Then he was a flash of movement, dashing out of the building with his briefcase.

Chief Swan shook his head, staring after him, and so did I.

He could have taken more time, been less rude, catered to Bella—who was the victim.

"We should celebrate, right?" Alice asked, looking between Bella and me. "We'll make a big dinner." She put her arm around her. "You love to cook."

"I do," Bella whispered.

"Hey…he can't hurt you—never again." Alice pulled Bella's hair behind her ears.

"I know."

"Especially when you move back home," Chief Swan interrupted them. "Bells—"

"I'm not leaving." On the contrary, Bella stood out of the chair and went for the door.

I sighed, looking up to Hale. "You ready?"

She nodded. "Let's go…I'll let you drive." She held her stomach.

I laughed, trying for nonchalance, trying not to seem like I had Bella and Alice in my periphery. "_Let_ me?"

Hale pulled me closer to whisper in my ear. "That Swan girl is…" She twirled a finger by her ear.

Sadly, I was very fucking saddened by that, but what did I hope to happen? Sure, she's beautiful and everything . . .

Regardless, I knew I couldn't date her, and she's way out of my league anyway. "Just…you drive."

Hale grinned, leaving the courthouse as I followed after her. Bella and her father were on the steps along with Alice, and I waved as I started down the stairs.

"Wait!" Alice shouted.

I stopped.

"We're going to cook dinner . . . um, you should come."

"I shouldn't," I said.

"It would be a huge thank you—"

"I was doing my job." I placed my hand on my chest. "I—"

"You and your partner went above and beyond the call of duty. No one else would even listen to me." Tears welled up in Alice's eyes. "You guys saved her, and . . . nothing I could possibly do would be good enough—enough to show my gratitude."

I grinned, using my knuckle to pick up a stray tear on her cheek, although I didn't know what to say.

Alice placed her hand on mine. "Bella's weird, too…but she thinks you're hot." She sniffled.

"She does?" I looked over to her, Bella, and she was actually talking rapidly, her mouth moving as she said things her father didn't want to hear—judging by his scowl. "Forget it . . . I'm—I'd be no good for her."

Alice smiled brightly. "Let her decide that—no, us," she giggled madly. "She's done nothing but talk about you since. Her therapist said it was unhealthy. I mean…" She looked back to her cousin. "I don't think I should be telling you all this." Her face fell. "I talk _too_ much, and Bella doesn't say a peep," she sighed. "We're freaks, but good people, and Bella is mean cook." She hit my arm. "Huh?"

I massaged my forehead.

"She's not a creepy stalker or anything." Alice was quick to add.

"Well, my partner has the hots for you." I forced out a chuckle.

_Hey, if you can't find anything good to say, deflection is the best course of action. _

"The blonde?" Alice raised a brow. "He's older . . . and I'd be lying if I said—I'm not going to tell you that," she whispered behind her hand, and she was a total character, adorable.

I smiled. "When?"

Alice clapped. "Goodie! How about tomorrow?"

"Uh…Jazz and I have to work. We're off Saturday."

"Then Saturday it is! Our apartment—six sharp." She pointed. "Bella's going to be so excited."

"Okay." I gave her a thumb up. "We'll see ya then—"

"What the hell did you just agree to?" Hale asked.

"Officer Hale," Alice grabbed her hand, "you were great with Bella. You should come too."

"Too?" Hale stared at me.

"Dinner at our apartment. Edward will give you the address and the details." I had no idea how Alice knew my first name.

"Edward," Hale said, and she had a tone. "Well, that sounds nice."

I massaged the back of my neck, and then waved as Alice went to her family.

"Bye, Edward!" Bella shouted, which caught me off-guard.

"Uh—bye!" I waved.

She smiled as Alice linked arms with her.

"Let's go, lover boy." Hale pushed me.

"Shut up." I followed her down to the car.

"I know you were just being polite." Hale said as we entered the RMP.

I fastened my seat belt. "What?"

"You're not seriously interested, are you?" she laughed. "Find a way to cancel. It's wrong on your part—you'd be taking advantage."

I nodded, actually agreeing with her.

It wasn't because Bella and Alice were a little weird and yet beautiful. It was because . . . although I didn't know Bella, I knew we were complete opposites. Plus, she had gone through something serious, and I . . . I saved her? So, her judgment with me would be fucked-up in a sense. Of course she might admire me in some way, and I'd be a douchebag if I took advantage of that fact.

"If you're lonely…I mean, I have friends." Hale pulled away from the curb. "We can go for drinks after shift. I'll make a call."

I pursed my lips. "Set it up."

She stopped at the red light. "You and Tanya would look perfect together."

"Tanya?" I raised a brow, slumping in the seat.

"Leggy blond, big tits—every man's dream."

"'K," I agreed. "But I'm not looking for a girlfriend or a fucking headache—understand? I can handle a little weird, like those two, but insane? No way. No crazy bitches for this mook." I pointed to myself.

"A mook?"

I rolled my eyes. "A loser."

"I think my grandfather used to use that word," she laughed. "But, oh...I wouldn't go that far." Hale pouted. "You're just special...in your own way. You got looks, though."

I gave her the finger.

She snorted. "Tanya's a whore—not literally, like, you wouldn't have to pay her."

"Good…'cause I can't afford it," I laughed and popped some Trident into my mouth.

"Gimme one." Hale held her hand out, and I plopped a piece of gum in it. "She's cool. You can fuck her and never call her again—I won't be offended."

"Oh, come on. I wouldn't do that now . . ." I lied.

"Yeah, you would. But that's okay." She chuckled, taking off. "When the last time you got laid?"

I tried to think back.

"If you have to think about it, it's been too long!" she shouted, cackling.

"Yeah, well . . ."

"You're a cop, a hot one. You sitting at home with that keyboard..."

I raised a brow, practically turning in her direction. "How..."

"Emmett, your roommate, is my partner," she lied, since she probably hears me nightly. "Shit. We should turn on the radio." She hit the switch and white noise filled the cab.

"So . . ."

"We're not talking about my pregnancy." She cut me off.

"When do you plan to tell Emmett you're having his kid?" I was surprised she let me get that out.

"How—I mean—um—What?" She turned to me.

"I know," I said.

She gulped and it was loud. "I, uh, I haven't—" She laughed, a nervous chuckle. "You can't."

Gazing over at her, I saw a tear roll down her cheek. "You'll be all right," I whispered.

"I know." She wiped her eyes.

_**Thank you for reading. **_

_**Please leave me your thoughts.**_

_**The chaps will be between 2k and 5k words. **_


	3. Dreams

**Ste****phenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

**A special someone is helping me out with the cop stuff. Those of you who know me know who that is . . . But the idea really came to me because one day, I thought, "I miss that show Third Watch". It was about cops, EMS, FDNY - basically NYC workers - and it was awesome. LOL. **

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**Here's a bonus update! 'Cause I LOVE you all. **

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing. **

* * *

"**Offbeat"**

**Chapter Three: Dreams**

When I was a kid, I had dreams . . . Although it's hard to remember them now. They were always vague at best—always had something to do with my love of music. And I can't say I ever did much of anything to make them happen.

So, after high school and four years of college—majoring in music—I got a job selling electronics at Radio Shack. After a few months of doing that, I moved on to office supplies at Staples. All while I composed, wrote my own music, swearing I'd get off my ass one day and find a way to get my songs to a producer, or better yet, some rock star.

Even so—even so, I sort of narrowed down one of those _dreams_—I was bored.

I was bored to death.

I even went to an Air Force recruiting center to see what'd it'd take to be a pilot.

_Turns out, it'd take better eyesight. _

So, I'm walking down the street, and I see these cops running toward me. Then one takes down a perp right in front of me. I've lived in New York City my whole life, and I'd seen cops do some shit—some great and heroic things.

I thought it looked like fun—reminded me of those old, old cop shows.

None of this _Criminal Minds, CSI _shit.

Cops, street cops, patrolmen who brought the city justice, who protected the streets.

And I'm thinking that'd be fun.

And, you know what?

It has been.

I got lucky.

I found something I was really good at.

. . . When some people never do.

But that doesn't mean this is all I ever wanted to be.

It doesn't mean I still don't have dreams.

"Ugh!" Jasper shouted, spraying the inside of our RMP with air freshener. "Now it smells like someone took a dump in a pine forest."

I grimaced, staring into the cab. We picked some drunken slob up from a strip joint. He was causing trouble, and then he took a shit in the backseat. He said he had to go, and Jasper told him to hold it until we got to the station.

I guess the joke's on us.

"_78-Alpha, this is central—"_

I reached for my radio, but Jasper put a hand up, stopping me. "Let Hale and McCarty get it."

I let go of my radio.

"I'm not getting back in there." Jasper gestured to the car, cursing under his breath. "How was that date? My cousin's friend, the loose chick?"

I winced. "I—I kind of blew it?" I leaned back on the car, not wanting to say more.

"Blew it? You? You're…charming." He came over to pat my back.

I threw my head back and laughed. "Honest to God, she was annoying as fuck." I really couldn't get over how much I disliked Hale's friend, Tanya. "She's—she's as old as Hale—twenty-six—and she had braces. Regardless of how…much of a dud I was, she'd offered to blow me." My words were slow. "I was scared."

"Of braces?" Jasper chuckled.

I nodded. "What if one got caught on my dick?" I sipped my coffee.

"What kind of high school experience did you have?" He faced me.

"I dunno." I didn't want to discuss it anymore. "I wasn't attracted to Tanya anyway. Decent package, but as soon as she opened her mouth...she ruined it? It wasn't the metal either. She talked too much?"

"Oh, you're fucked. All women talk too much."

"Not all," I disagreed. "I just wish . . . this sounds stupid. I just wish I could find someone who enjoyed silence, or music—fill the silence with music." I sipped my coffee again, nodding, liking my words.

"Your guess is as good as mine. We all have our likes and dislikes. Fuck. I'm thirty and single, and I spend a lot of time with my mother—" Jasper stopped talking.

I wasn't going to make a comment.

"Come'ere, you little shit!" Emmett boomed while he chased some kid down the block.

"We have a car!" We heard Hale shout from the street. She was driving at a snail's pace, keeping up with Emmett.

"Officer Whitlock!" the boy shouted, and I'd recognized him as one of the kids from the neighborhood. He's always in trouble, but he never actually breaks any laws - he's not bad enough to have us haul his ass in, just a troublemaker.

"It's Pee Wee," Jasper said, opening the back door of our RMP.

Sure enough, Pee Wee hopped in, only to moan and groan, probably getting a nose-full, when Jasper shut the door.

"Fuck!" Emmett shouted, coming to a short stop. "Open up!"

"Relax," Jazz laughed.

"Open this fucking door, Whitlock!"

"Calm down." I placed my hand on his shoulder.

"McCarty!" Hale warned, leaving their squad car.

"He won't give me my prisoner!" Emmett whined to her.

Hale laughed, joining us on the sidewalk.

"What'd he do?" Jasper asked.

Hale jerked a thumb. "Go look at our squad."

"Busted this little shit for curfew twice this week!" Emmett banged on the door.

"I didn't do nothin'!" Pee Wee hollered back.

Curious, I strolled over to their car. On the back fender, "McCarty sucks cock" was scribbled with a black marker. "Oh, shit." I guffawed, bending at the knees. "That's awesome."

"It might not have been him," Jasper said.

"Like hell!" Emmett slapped the back window. "Last time, he said those exact words to me."

Jasper sighed. "Did you _see_ Pee Wee do this?"

Emmett went over to his car, starting slapping that shit now. "I popped him for curfew twice this week!" He hit his own car. "Last time, those were his exact words!"

"A lot of people might have written that." Jazz pointed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emmett advanced toward Jasper.

"All right, look!" Hale waved her hands. "We gotta go! We got that accident with injuries on 98th Street—"

Emmett turned back to her. "Directing traffic?" he asked. "How is that _our_ job? We're on traffic?" He was in disbelief.

"'Cause I took the call while you were running and these two had the collar…" She waved to us, going back toward their car.

I looked to Pee Wee to see him flipping McCarty off, and I bent down to peek into the squad. "If I see that finger again, I'm going to break it off at the knuckle."

Pee Wee sat back.

"We'll meet you over there," Jasper told Rosalie.

Emmett flinched toward Pee Wee, and the kid jumped back. "You better watch yourself!" He followed after Hale. "Let's do this!" he shouted before their lights and sirens came on and they left.

"He on steroids or something?" Jasper asked me.

I sighed. "I think it's stress."

Hale finally told McCarty her little secret last night. Now that I know about her, she's always at our apartment. As it turns out, Hale was living with her mother in Brooklyn. She moved back home when she went through this horrific break up a year or two ago. I don't know much about it, but she spilled her guts to Emmett.

And she's been staying with us.

They're keeping the baby…working shit out as it comes, and I'm not sharing my place with an infant.

My roommate isn't the type to talk about his feelings, but he's dealing . . . I guess. In fact, when they're not working, they actually do seem like a "normal" couple—loving and shit, and watching TV on our sofa.

"Let's take the kid in," Jasper said, going for the driver's side.

"Seriously?" I thought he'd just let Pee Wee go.

"A few hours in the cage won't hurt him." He entered the car.

I agreed, following after, and then I stared as we passed that large accident. It was a wreck and a half, and McCarty let us right through. EMS, Fire, they were there, too, along with the ME—Medical Examiner.

Jasper didn't even bother to cuff Pee Wee as we left the car.

"Come on. It's not even permanent marker." He bitched as Jasper closed the cell.

"You can think about that on Saturday. You're to be here by seven a.m., and you're going to wash all the squads—"

"How many?" the kid asked, gripping the bars.

"Like thirty." Jasper smiled.

"Where's the paperwork?" Chuck at the desk asked me.

I trailed my hand through my hair. "No paperwork. Hold him for an hour or two and let him go."

"Right." Chuck went back to his donut.

/=/=/=/

The site of the accident was still a gruesome scene. Supposedly, a Jaguar hit a minivan that had six people in it. So far, four of those lives were lost, and EMS is working hard to stabilize the other two.

All of us were stationed at a corner—each side of the intersection that's pretty fucking busy this time of day. There's no such thing as shutting the avenue down, so I continued to wave cars through when it was my side's turn.

"Cullen," McCarty shouted for me.

I put my hand up to stop the car in front of me. "Yeah?"

"My cousin, Big Frankie's getting married this weekend. You coming? My ma wants'ta know?"

I racked my brain, trying to remember which cousin it was. Emmett comes from a large Irish family, and someone is always stopping by the apartment.

"Big Frankie with the MTA?" I asked.

"No, that's Bigger Frankie. _Big_ Frankie's in sanitation."

"Right." I nodded. "Is there gonna be a fight?"

"There's gonna be beer . . ." He trailed off, but I still heard him amongst the horns and cars around. "Oh, the horn! Why didn't I think of that?" He spat at a Mercedes.

I laughed, waving the cars through. "I'll be there." Then I remembered the dinner party at Bella's Saturday night. I never canceled, nor had I truly forgotten about it. It just slipped my mind. "It's Saturday?"

Emmett nodded.

"I'll see," I said.

"Hale!" Emmett practically screeched.

Looking over to Rosalie, she was waving her arms, using hand signals, and ignoring him.

"Yo, HALE!" he screamed so loud, he stiffened. She finally turned to him. "We got ourselves a big problem here. This jack-off lives just on the other side. We gotta let him through!"

The guy put his hands up, getting back into his car.

"No…it's cool." Emmett walked toward him. "You drive, and I'll shoot anyone who gets in your way!"

I laughed my ass off. "God…I love this job."

"Edward!"

My head and body whipped around, hearing my first name. On the corner, watching the accident and all the traffic, were Bella and Alice. They looked like they just walked up from the subway.

"Hey!" I waved.

"Can you come here?" Alice asked.

I looked around.

"Go…I got it." Emmett backed up, entering the middle of the street to take over for my side as well.

I sprinted to the sidewalk, smiling.

Bella was in jeans and a sweater, her hair up in a ponytail, a school bag on her shoulder. Fucking gorgeous, looking perfect.

"What's up?" I asked.

"We never see you around here," Alice said. "We live right there." She pointed to her building. "This is your beat?"

I nodded, keeping Bella in my periphery. She'd look at me, and as soon as I'd turn to her, she'd look away. "Yeah… 90th Street to here—98th." I shrugged. "Whitlock and I . . . we're usually around here somewhere."

"Right." Alice nudged Bella with her elbow.

That was when she unleashed her gaze on me, eyes zeroing in on my chest. "You like hot dogs," she said.

I smiled, nodding. "I do."

"You have mustard." She pointed.

I looked down and there was a yellow stain on my shirt. "Oh . . ." Using my thumbnail, I was fast to scratch the dried mustard away.

"What time do you guys get off tonight?" Alice asked, staring behind me. Then she waved. "Hi, Officer Whitlock!"

I turned and that ass was practically blushing.

"So . . . Saturday feels like ages away." Alice rocked back on her heels. "You guys should come over tonight."

"Tonight?" I raised a brow. "We don't get off 'til eleven, depending . . . it could be later."

"Hey." Jasper joined us. "How's it going?"

"Great!" Alice shouted, and I didn't know why she was yelling.

I looked to Bella. "How are you?"

"Good." She stared down to her shoes.

"Is your father still in town?" I asked, curious.

She shook her head no. "He left."

"Oh…" I was stumped for conversation.

"You shaved today." Bella grinned.

"I did." Her smile caused me to smile, and I felt like I was back in junior high—not knowing how to talk to girls and shit. Well, not this girl. She was crazy beautiful. And the more I looked at her, the more I felt compelled to look away. She was almost too pretty.

"So, are you guys coming over tonight or what?" Alice asked, her gaze going from Jasper to me.

"Uh…"

"Um..."

We exchanged a look.

"Come on." Alice flipped Jasper's tie, and I guessed she was going for flirty? But it came off as silly. "We're just two perpetually horny girls…looking to spend time with two of New York's finest…and I mean—" Her eyes went from Jasper's shoes to his face. "Finest."

"Oh, shit." I covered my mouth with my hand.

Jasper cleared his throat. "We'll-we'll be there." He pulled on my sleeve.

"We will?" I asked.

Jasper was dragging me away from them. "11:30 work for you guys?"

"Sounds good." Bella spoke up.

"Great!" Jasper put a hand up, and then yanked me into his side. "I want the little one."

"Um…knock yourself out. Wait, you're serious?" I laughed, walking toward our posts again.

"They're gorgeous, drop-dead-fucking gorgeous, and they want to hang out with _us_? Us, Cullen?"

I nodded, since we're goofy and…it did seem impossible that we'd snag their attentions. "Okay."

"We're going off the grid at ten—let McCarty and Hale deal. We'll be there by 11:30." He stared back to where they were. Bella and Alice were practically skipping up their street.

"I think . . . I don't wanna say they're crazy..." I laughed.

"Everyone is weird," he said. "But it's all about the level of weirdness you can handle. They seem harmless to me."

"True…" I pursed my lips.

"And you can definitely handle . . . What was her name again?"

"Bella," I said. "Isabella Swan, but she likes to be called Bella."

Jasper nodded. "Right. You can handle that for a night, so I can handle the other." He jerked his head. "Know what I mean?"

"They're like twenty—"

"They're over eighteen, and did you see those bodies, bro? They're fucking built like women," he laughed. "Alice...She's gotta be the prettiest thing I've seen in a long-fucking-time." He started bopping his head, snapping his fingers. _"I'm so tired of being alone. I'm so tired of on-my-own. Won't you help me girl—just as soon as you can..."_ He started with that Al Green shit again, singing to the sky. He's actually been down in the dumps since he lost his cuff keys, moody and shit, not singing.

"Stop." I placed my hand on his chest, looking around us. "It's cool. I'll take one for the team—whatever."

"You're so full of shit!" He cackled. "You had to see your face just now. And when we saw Alice that one time, you were all hanging out the car, hoping the Swan chick was with her."

"Yeah, right." I snorted. "I don't have the best luck with women. They think I'm good-looking, realize all I'm good for is a fuck, and then that's it."

"Cut the bull—"

I pursed my lips. "Maybe I'm like my father—just can't be tied down." He'd left Mom, my sister, and me a long fucking time ago. "Maybe it's a curse—that shit could be genetic."

"That's the shittiest excuse I ever heard. Your pops not sticking around makes _him_ a piece-of-shit. It has nothing to do with you."

"Go on...go back to your corner." I gave him a push.

"I thought you got along with what'shisface now?"

"Ladies, this isn't gossip time at the water-cooler!" Hale shouted over to us.

"His name's Carlisle—I meet him sometimes for lunch," I whispered, wanting to end this discussion already. "Come on, go...I'll go over with you later. I promise."

He nodded, backing away.

"Hey!" Some guy approached us. "There's a lady—at the bar up the street. She's bleeding."

"Dial 911—call an ambulance," Jasper replied, and I started laughing again.

"I think she's the one who hit the van."

Jasper and I exchanged a look, and then went toward this bar. Lo and behold, just a block away from the accident, there was a dented up Jaguar parked out front. We'd heard it was that make of car that had hit the minivan, but we couldn't be too sure until we got the surveillance from the street camera.

The bar looked like a dive—dark, pretty much empty, smelled of stale booze, and garbage. There was only one woman sitting at the bar—shaking hand as she brought the glass to her lips.

"How many?" Jasper asked the bartender.

"She bought the bottle." He jerked his head.

"She stiff when she came in?" My partner stared down at her.

"I look clairvoyant to you?" The bartender's tone was sarcastic.

Either way, we advanced toward her. I stood behind her and Jasper sat next to her; we wanted to make sure she didn't run, and I have absolutely no sympathy for drunks.

"That your Jag out front?" Jazz asked.

"What…?" Even if I was behind her, I could smell the booze coming from her.

"Is that your Jaguar out front?" Jasper stole the glass from her hand.

"Uh, I, uh, my husband's on his way—" She went for her drink again, and this time I blocked her from taking it. "He's an attorney. He said, I should tell you that, I came in here to call for help."

"Did you?" I asked, "call for help?"

"What?" She seemed confused.

"Hubby's legal advice?" Jasper made the bottle of vodka dance. "Drink as much as you can, fluff the breathalyzer?"

She opened her mouth to speak.

"Huh?" he asked again.

"Um…" She cleared her throat.

"Stand up," I said, reaching back for my cuffs.

She did as I asked. "But-but my husband should be here any minute."

I brought her hands behind her back, slapping the cuffs on. "We'll wait outside," I said. "We'll pass the time by watching the ME bag the bodies of the people you just killed." I guided her out the door.

"That was cold, Cullen. I like it." Jasper grabbed her purse, and then hurried to get the bar door for me.

_**Did you REALLY think I'd have him hook up with Skank-Tanya?**_

_**Thank you for reading. **_

_**Please leave me your thoughts**_

_**I know it's a slow start, but I promise to dive deeper into character backgrounds soon.**_


	4. Saved

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA**

* * *

"**Offbeat"**

**Chapter Four: Saved**

At a quarter to ten, Jasper was practically buzzing in his seat. I actually contemplated taking his umpteenth cup of coffee away from him. Although, I truly doubt java has any real effects on any of us. It's just warm—mind over matter bullshit. All we drink is coffee . . . which is dumb, too.

We always gotta piss . . .

"_78 Alpha, this is central." _

Before I reached for my radio, I looked to Jasper.

"_78 Alpha . . . This is central, please come in."_ They'd called for McCarty and Hale just seconds prior. _"78 Alpha—"_

"This is 78 Alpha," I said.

Jasper groaned.

"_78 Alpha, possible DOA in a car. Parking lot 1245 96__th__ Street." _

"10—4, Central. 1245 96th Street," I confirmed.

"Fuck!" Jasper slammed his hands on the steering wheel. "Fucking stiff in a car . . ." He started the engine, switching on the lights and sirens.

We'd actually passed McCarty and Hale on our way, and they were right on 96th Street, the corner. McCarty was holding Hale's shoulders as she lost her cookies in the trash can.

"What's her problem?" my partner asked.

I hit his arm. "Stomach bug."

"She shouldn't be working!" he hollered out the window, and Emmett gave him the finger. "I don't wanna catch that shit," he told me with a brief glance.

"You can't catch what she has," I laughed.

"Something's going on with her . . . I heard our mothers gossiping the other day. It's not like I pay attention," he sighed, turning into the municipal parking lot.

I lost my seat belt and reached for my skel-be-good-stick, aka my nightstick, before I left the car. Then I looked down as my cell phone dinged with a text. It was my older sister, Kate, telling me to call our mother.

"Where's this car?" I looked around, and there were actually quite a few vehicles.

Jasper did, too. "Over there." He squinted, pointing to an old GTO.

"Holy fuck…" I stared at it, and then I practically ran. "Do you know what this is?" I marveled at it, ran my hand along the side.

"Yeah…" Jasper peered into the car, knocking on the window. The dude looked to be asleep—head back, mouth wide open—and I didn't give a fuck. "Sir?"

"Call a bus." I grabbed my flashlight, and then crawled under the car. Studying the undercarriage, I saw every part had the same serial numbers.

"Sir?" Jasper knocked again. "He looks dead . . ."

"Lousy place to die." Elated, I jumped up. "When do you think this'll be at auction?"

"Sir!" Jasper used his flashlight to tap the window, and then that old man hopped up.

"Fuck!" I stomped my foot. "This is a '72 GTO!"

"What?" the old man hollered. "I was sleeping!"

Jasper stepped back as he left his vehicle. "Sorry, sir . . . you living in your car?" There was mad shit in the back seat.

"Yes…is that against the law?"

"No . . . but it is, depending on where you park. You can't park here. We've received complaints." My partner explained.

"You're living in the car?" I asked. "I'll give you two hundred bucks for it."

"Wow!" Old man smiled. "A whole two hundred? I can get twelve five says Blue Book—who you foolin'?"

I rolled my eyes. "Do you know how much work this thing needs?" It was beautiful, but the body needed to be restored.

"Forget it!" He spat.

"Four hundred—that's as high as I'll go."

He looked to Jasper. "I'll be on my way—"

"Hold up." I reached for him.

Jasper pushed me back. "Let's go."

"Five hundred!" I shouted.

The old man ignored me, closing his door.

"Rude fucker!"

Jasper laughed. "You really trying to swindle an old man?"

I shrugged, putting my flashlight back in my belt. "Let's just go." I was suddenly in a horrible mood. "I haven't done laundry, so let's go so Bella can pick on my clothes—"

"Why would she do that?"

"'Cause the pretty ones do that!" I snapped. "_She_ does that—"

Jasper let out a yelp and bumped into my side.

"Watch it!" I pushed him back.

"Did you see that rat?" He shined his light on the corner.

I squinted, and there was indeed a rat—a huge fucking rat. "Ugh…"

"I hate them." He shuddered. "There all over this city."

"They should do open season, let people hunt them. Too bad no one eats rat meat."

Jasper laughed. "What do you think's in those burritos from that Mexican joint you love so much?"

I didn't say a word and walked ahead of him.

Let Jasper walk alone while there are rats.

"Wait up!" He sprinted to me.

_**/=/=/=/**_

We actually received another call about some drunk at a bar—disorderly conduct and whatnot. We get a lot of calls regarding that shit. In our sector, there are at least seven bars, which is just a total coincidence. Meanwhile, my father can usually be seen in the one on 92nd Street. That's his spot. Luckily, I haven't had to haul his ass in . . . yet.

We were able to rush through the paperwork of this dude's arrest, throw him in the cage, and then waste enough time—so that we'd get changed and be out of there by 11:30.

Jasper's plan to be out on time—when we're never out on time—actually worked out. I couldn't believe it.

When Jasper started going on and on about some book called _The Secret_, and how . . . some bull about believing and it'll happen, I went to take a shit.

I had too much coffee today . . . and two of those burritos.

Then I took my toiletries out of my locker and went to the showers for a quickie. You never know. I could get laid tonight, but I found that to be highly unlikely. Jasper had the same idea—had gone in ahead of me, and was combing his hair when I was finished.

"I got a shirt you can wear. I keep an extra one in my locker—just in case shit." He shrugged, emptying some mousse into his palm.

I tightened my towel around myself. "Sure." Whatever he had was probably better than the Gold's Gym t-shirt I rocked on the way in. It's April and still cold as fuck, so I'd covered that with my coat. "You drove in today?" Jasper actually has an old Thunderbird. I didn't understand his underappreciating that GTO earlier.

My partner and I aren't exactly best friends. We just talk about stuff in passing, to pass the time, and sometimes we can speak of heavy topics—like my father—yet we never conversed about cars . . .

"No . . . I took the bus." He winked, firing a thumb and forefinger pistol shot at himself in the mirror.

"You're too fucking corny." I strolled over to my locker.

"People say…" he sang and danced his way over to me, "that I've found a way, to make you say that you love me…" He snapped his fingers, and then tossed me the shirt.

It was a green, long-sleeved button-down that would go well with the dark wash jeans I'd worn today.

"Hey, baby…you didn't go for that—"

"Thank you," I told him.

"Ah, it's a natural fact," he continued to sing, digging out his own clothes.

And I was back to being in a better mood as I, too, started to get ready for our date . . . if that's even what this is.

"Woot!" Hale shouted, announcing herself. "I got back just in time!" She nudged my bare chest, making me grin.

"I'll go change in the bathroom."

"Nothing I haven't seen before." She snorted, taking off her jacket. Believe it or not, out of the hundred people working at this precinct, there are only two women. Rosalie Hale and Carmen Mendoza, who's as old as my mother and still on patrol, aren't fazed—although, they'd never get changed around us.

When Emmett waltzed in, I said, "I'll be in the pot." I grabbed my shit and went into the bathroom. It was cool before. But with her being McCarty's girl, it just didn't sit right—not that she wants my dick. It's the principle.

Jasper didn't give a shit, but they're family.

Hale got on me about my hair before I left, and then she used some of Jasper's mousse to smooth my hair back. I didn't like it, although it added a little something extra when I just messed my hair. Overall, I looked pretty fucking good.

"Gum?" I offered Jazz as we walked.

"I have Tic-Tacs," he said.

I shoved a piece in my mouth. "So…"

"Just be casual. I don't know if this is a booty-call, or what—what we're walking into. Make small talk, and if one grabs one of us, drags us into another room . . . just fucking go with it."

I nodded.

"Condom?" He offered me one.

I reached, but then put my palm out. "The shit she went through—she's not looking to jump into bed with some stranger."

"Hale said she called you Superman. You're no stranger."

"This is so wrong," I told the sky.

He laughed, placing his arm over my shoulders. "Relax. Just take it," he sighed. "But…you're on the job almost a year. You don't carry rubbers with you? You never know, bro. I'm just saying. You never know how the night'll turn out—not that I'm in the habit of…"

"I've been your partner for six months. When have you gotten laid on the job?" I chuckled.

"I haven't, not in the eight years I been on this beat…I'm just saying." He frowned.

I didn't say anything more, content to enjoy the silence as we walked to this chick's apartment.

Jasper had just hit the bell when I looked back to him. "Gimme that."

He grinned, slamming the condom into my hand before Alice buzzed us in.

Remembering where they lived, we went right to their door. I wasn't sure about my very happy partner, but I was nervous, and I really wanted to go home . . . yet, there was something exciting, something that made me anxious in a good way, about the possibilities of what might and could happen tonight.

"Hi!" Alice opened the door, and she looked good—cute in pair of pajamas. "I wanted to be comfortable . . ." She gestured to her attire.

"You look great—gorgeous." Jazz smiled.

Alice pulled Jasper inside.

I followed, taking tentative steps, my eyes darting around.

Bella was also in PJs, sitting on the couch, but she'd risen when I came in. "Hey…" She smiled brightly, staring me up and down.

I waved, standing there as this awkward tension filled the air.

"Bella made lasagna," Alice said, still pulling Jasper's hand. "Come sit—she made it just for you guys."

"Wow!" Jasper looked to me, and then sat at their dining room table. "They cooked."

"I hope you like it, Officer Whitlock—"

"Jasper." He stopped her. "And you're Alice…?" He was full of shit, practically studied those fucking reports. He knew her last name; it was the same as Bella's.

"Swan," Alice giggled, grabbing a bottle of wine. "Vino?"

"Yes, please." He was pleased as punch.

"Edward?" Alice turned to me.

"No, thanks," I said.

"You don't drink?"

I jumped, startled, as Bella was like right next to me. She snuck up on me, which was creepy as no one can usually do that to me. "Um, no, I don't."

"Not even wine?" She stepped closer, biting her full bottom lip.

I shook my head. "I'll have a beer every once in a while."

"We have beer from when Charlie was here." She called her father by his first name.

"That's okay," I whispered. "Soda, coffee, water—anything is fine."

Bella touched my bicep, trailing her hand down my arm, and I swallowed—not expecting that, yet liking it.

When she'd gone into the kitchen, Jasper tilted his head, indicating I follow her.

"You're hungry?" Alice asked, serving Jasper. "Bella figured you guys would like chopmeat. It's not vegetarian."

I smiled. "That's—that's nice of you. Sure, thank you." Rubbing my stomach, I figured I could eat, but then thought against it. I might drop some down Jasper's crisp shirt. Then I thought, fuck it, and followed after Bella.

She was placing ice cubes in a glass, having taken out a can of root beer.

"Thank you," I said, putting my hands in my pockets.

"Why do you slouch? Is that a tall thing?" She grinned up to me.

"You notice everything…" I didn't really know how to respond to that.

"You—I just seem to notice things about you." She stared to her feet, holding out the glass of soda.

"Thank you." I grabbed it from her, our hands touching, and she didn't let go.

"I never got the chance to thank you," she said, her gaze meeting my own. "I—"

"Don't," I said, using my thumb to rub her fingertips. "Please don't thank me. I was—"

"Doing your job." She finished for me. "But…how'd you know where to find me?" She let go.

I took a sip of root beer. "Uh, well, we'd gotten a call earlier that day. This young girl—like yourself—complained of this guy bothering her. He hadn't done anything wrong, but we followed him, wanted to make sure he knew to stay away from her. He agreed, we went on with our day, and then we were called here . . . If it weren't for Alice being so persistent, telling us everything—about the guy who'd been pestering you . . ." I trailed off. "We have certain procedures, so…We got lucky—had a hunch it was the same guy."

"It was fate—kinda." She shrugged.

"Fate?" I raised a brow. "I don't know what to call what you've been through." My tone was hushed. "No one, least of all you, deserved that shit—excuse me."

She waved a hand, at my language or my apology. "I didn't mean that." Her face fell for the briefest of seconds. "He scared the hell out of me. I'd never been that scared in my whole life, but…I _was_ lucky. He—in the grand scheme of all that he could have done—he didn't get the chance to do anything. You saved me . . . My dad said you guys are good cops…for listening to Alice, not dismissing her, and finding me."

I smiled.

"He's a cop, too."

"I figured that. Plus, Alice told me," I laughed.

"Right." She tapped her forehead, looking back to me. "Your hair is different."

I sighed. "Hale…she tried to tame it."

She grinned sideways, staring up to my hair. "It's so nice . . . can I touch it?"

I ducked, slightly bending at the waist so she could. "Knock yourself out."

Bella's hand was gentle, until she reached my scalp, lightly massaging and running her fingernails down. I might have even groaned, that shit felt that fucking good.

"Good kitty," she giggled.

Surprised by that, my body shook with laughter; meanwhile, she was right. I was practically meowing, wanting her to continue.

"It's soft," she whispered, trailing her hand down to my cheek.

I straightened out a little, composing my smile, my head a mere inch from hers. She smelled good, just her—the air around her was scented with lavender, or some kind of flower, her warm body radiating this heat, and her eyes . . .

Like always, they were too much.

My gaze went from her nose, her cheeks to her lips, anything but those expressively deep eyes that I couldn't seem to face.

"Can I kiss you?" She pulled me toward her, and then her lips were touching mine.

My mouth morphed, shaped itself to hers, following her lead, my stomach a butterfly-filled, knotted and excited mess.

It was probably because—although my brain knew better—my body thought we might get lucky tonight . . . with this crazy, seriously crazy and seriously beautiful girl with the soft, kissable lips . . .

Sadly, she never deepened the kiss, pulling away and smiling.

I did the same, and there was even more tension in this kitchen than there had been in their living room minutes prior. "Yes," I whispered and cleared my throat.

"What?" Her eyes finally opened.

"You can kiss me."

"Oh…" she giggled.

I sighed, lifting her hand and kissing her palm. "That was unexpected…but nice. Thank you." Okay, so I still didn't know what to say.

She took her hand back. "You're not interested."

"Whoa…" She suddenly looked hurt. "Um…no, I am. You just kissed me…" I shrugged. "I—"

"You probably think I'm weird."

"Yes?" I scrunched my nose. "I'm weird, too." I pointed to myself. "But…I mean…Christ." I massaged my forehead. "You're beautiful, and I'm an idiot, and I don't do this very often."

"You don't?" Her tone was surprised now.

I shook my head. "I haven't dated much since I joined the force. I work three to eleven—prime date hours." I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "You're probably way better at this than I am."

"No." She smiled and grasped my hand again. "I dated this one guy back in high school, but I only used him to lose my virginity."

"Wow…that's—that's honest." I tried not to laugh.

"He served his purpose." She looked up to me. "Wanna see my room?"

"Um…sure. Lead the way." I gestured, and then followed close behind her. Bella's hips swayed, and I wished she wasn't wearing those loose pajama pants.

To my surprise, neither Alice nor Jasper were in the dining room or the living room.

"Where'd they go?" I asked.

She grinned back at me through her lashes. "I'm guessing she gave him the tour…they stopped at her bedroom."

_This was a fucking booty-call._

And by their looks alone, I would have never guessed it.

Bella with her meek ways, odd comments, and innocent gazes.

Alice with her cuteness, shortness, and her motor mouth-ness.

Who the fuck were these broads?

What were their stories? Speaking of, how could they afford such a nice place? Two college girls in Manhattan. "Uh…you and Alice don't work…how can you live here?" I looked around the spacious place.

"Alice's stepdad owns the building. He owns properties all over. But it's why we chose New York."

"Oh." And this was a booty-call, I thought. But at least I knew they didn't moonlight as hookers.

Did they do this often?

"You're the first men we've had here…" That settled that, I guess.

"How," I cleared my throat, entering Bella's bedroom. The walls were a soft shade of purple, as was her bedding, a beige carpet, and dark cherry wood furniture filling the room. It was neat—possibly the neatest bedroom I'd ever entered. "How long have you guys lived here?"

Bella dragged me farther inside and reached to close her door. "Three years." She placed her hands on my chest, bringing them up to my shoulders to rid me of my coat, and I shivered from her touch. "Alice is at NYU…I'm in my third year at Columbia." She carefully put my jacket on a hook.

"Right." I stared at my feet, feeling very out of place.

"Come sit." She pulled me by my belt, bringing me over to the bed.

"Wait." I placed my hands on her shoulders. "Um…" Was I really about to question _anything_ she was going to do to me? I didn't know how to feel—my cock excited, hard, and a stop sign flashing in my head. "Are you sure? I mean—what—"

"That vein in your forehead…Are you in distress?" She pointed up, and I avoided staring into her eyes.

"No," I lied.

"Are you lying?" She smirked.

"Yes," I said, wondering how she knew that.

"Your eyebrow twitched." That settled that, I guess. She sat down next to me. "You're nervous. Are you sure you don't want a beer?" She took my soda, placing it on her nightstand—coaster underneath.

"I'm sure."

She turned back to me. "You don't drink . . . you don't like the taste, or . . . you like to be in control, or are you the child of a drunk?"

"Whoa…" I stood up. "You know my first name—you could have gotten that from the reports. You know what I like to eat. What the—" I ranted, blurting all this shit out, caught off-guard—just fucking caught off-guard. "What is it with you?"

Bella looked down. "I asked one of the detectives your first name. You leave evidence of every meal you eat on whichever shirt you're wearing, and your being the child of an alcoholic was just an educated guess, and judging by your reaction . . . I'm going to guess you don't let people in quite often." She stared up at me. "Maybe I overstepped. And maybe you're standing there thinking _I'm_ the freak. But you raved like some lunatic just now, when I'm just trying to get to know you. I apologize."

"Don't," I said, waving a hand, because everything she said was correct. "Maybe I should go?" I pointed to the door.

She didn't say anything, playing with the charms on her bracelet.

"That's pretty," I whispered.

"My mom gave it to me for my twelfth birthday." When I didn't say anything, she filled the silence and continued. "She died the next year—car accident. That's when I went to live with Charlie."

"I'm sorry."

She didn't acknowledge my words. "We all build walls around ourselves…"

"Very true."

Bella licked her bottom lip, pulling her hair behind her ears. "It may seem dramatic, but I try not to hold back—my words? You never know. The person you love might be dead tomorrow…and it's funny because I never know _what_ to say to you. I say what I notice—the first things that come to mind."

"You can say anything." Who the fuck was I? I thought. "Whatever you want to tell me." Then I silently berated myself. She says she doesn't hold back, like she has no verbal filter, and that was the thing I liked most about her. She seemed quiet.

"Can you come sit?" She patted the bed beside her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." I sat next to her, crossing my ankles.

She placed her hand on my thigh. "I don't know you…but I already think you're amazing." She rubbed the side of my face.

I leaned into her touch, feeling terribly heartbroken within this moment, and I had no idea why.

"When was the last time someone saved you?" she whispered, leaning her forehead to my cheek.

_I silently hoped she didn't go into a spiel about Jesus . . ._

"I'm not in the habit of being saved."

"Can I try?" she asked, locking eyes with me.

My heart started thumping away in my chest, my mouth suddenly dry. "Um…" Our noses touched, and I closed the distance to kiss her again.

_**Thank you for reading. **_

_**Please leave me your thoughts. **_


	5. Disorderly

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA**

**Here's a short/quick and early update because I love you guys :-)**

* * *

"**Offbeat"**

**Chapter Five: Disorderly **

_**S**_parring. My pop guessed it would toughen me up, taking me to the gym for training at nine years old. By the time I was fourteen, I was fighting—taking on two of my friends at one time. I was skinny, but I was always filled with this anger, able to hold my own. It was probably because I thought I had something to prove.

My father, always so into boxing . . . it was a childish dream—idea. If I fought well enough, he'd come back. Although, I've never truly been big on hitting other people—I can control that anger nowadays.

When we pulled up to the corner, we heard a smash—seeing a large black man beating a car with a bat.

"He's crazy! He's drunk again!" A woman ran up to our squad.

Jasper and I hopped out of the car. "Is this your car?" I asked the woman.

"Yes, make him stop!" She held her head.

"Do you know him?" Jasper smiled, inquiring while this dude continued, getting the windshield.

"Yes, he's my husband—ex-husband!" She cringed. "Reggie, stop!" He didn't listen.

"Hey, stop that, sir!" I hollered.

"Stay outta this!" He ceased, pointing at me. "It's my car. I paid for it. I can trash it."

"It's my car now, Reggie! I got it. You know I got it. You signed the papers," his ex-wife cried.

"I made the payments!" He placed his hand on his chest but was quick to swing that bat down. "$269 a month, forty-eight months—me, not you—for four years!" Thwack went the windshield again.

"All right, Reggie . . . put the bat down!" I said, voice stern as hell.

"Here's what's gonna happen." Jasper waved his arms for this guy's attention, and he actually stopped. "You're gonna come down off of there. We're gonna cuff ya, take you down to the station, and we're gonna book ya for damaging property. Now, if you don't have any priors, you'll be released on your own recognizance. You'll be out of there in time to watch some prime-time TV."

Reggie pointed the bat at Jasper. "How 'bout you take that badge and gun off, and I kick yo ass?"

"No, thanks," Jasper laughed.

"See?" Reggie chuckled. "You know, I can kick your ass."

"No doubt." Jasper smiled, turning for his radio. "Central, this is 78 Alpha, I'm going to need an ambulance—"

"Yeah, you better be calling an ambulance," Reggie said.

My partner shook his head. "The ambulance is for you. You're going to need it after I call for back up and twenty cops show up. Then you'll go to the ER for stitches, and then you'll do twenty years in prison for assaulting a police officer—ruining what once was a pleasant evening."

"Get down off of there!" I raised my voice, having about enough of that guy—fucking Jasper, too. He should have just called for fucking back up already, or we should have bum-rushed this guy off the car.

Reggie threw the bat, and it almost hit his wife.

"Hey!" I shouted, reaching back for my cuffs, swearing I was going to enjoy this.

Jasper placed his hand on my chest, walking ahead of me to meet Reggie after he'd hopped down.

"He's crazy! He's always been crazy. That's why I divorced you!"

Reggie flew at his ex-wife, but we held him back.

That's when McCarty came flying out of his RMP. "What's going on?" he asked, Hale following close after him. "You need some help?"

"Nope," I said. "Turn around, put your hands on the hood."

Reggie calmed down and followed my direction, and I smelled the booze funk as I patted him down. He was clean. "You feel like a big man, hiding behind that badge? You better cuff me, punk-ass…"

I pushed his back, making him fall forward.

"Hey, don't lower yourself to his level. You'll only make it worse." Jasper took over, tightening the cuffs around his wrists.

Reggie turned back to me. "Your mother's a ho, right? Maybe when I get out, she and I can get together—"

I took a step closer, but McCarty was closer on his other side.

"I'll still pay the five dollars your daddy did!" He spat at me.

"Hey, shut up, fathead!" Emmett shouted in his ear.

"McCarty, back off." Jasper yanked Reggie away from the car.

Reggie stared behind him, at Hale. "That your cracker bitch…? You ride that—"

Emmett grabbed him by his collar, pushing his back against the car.

"Hey!" Jasper pushed him. "McCarty, let go!" I took Reggie from my partner while he spoke to Emmett. "This is our collar."

Hale held McCarty back, and I just gave Reggie over to Jasper. He has better hand control than I do.

Following after them toward the car, I wanted to make sure this dude didn't pull any silly stunts.

"Watch your head," Jasper said, helping him into the RMP.

Reggie spit in his face.

Jasper's head flew back before he slammed the door closed and reached into his pocket for a napkin.

I just stared, and I didn't know what to say.

Emmett widened his arms. "You gonna let him get away with that?" Funny, I wanted to know the answer to that, too.

"Nobody got hurt—he's in custody." Jasper wiped his face.

"Everybody saw him do it!" Emmett shouted, looking over to the crowd we'd drawn. "What happens the next time we come over here, huh?"

"What do you want me to do, McCarty? Beat him 'til he bleeds?" Jasper snorted.

"Oh…" Emmett threw his hands up. "You know what…?" He was exasperated, just like I was, only I'm not so vocal about things. "At least maybe they'd respect us."

Jasper shook his head. "You can beat a dog to make him stay, but it's fear, not respect."

"Who cares?" Emmett asked. "As long as he's too afraid to bite!" He stormed off, jumping into his squad car.

Hale gave me this sympathetic look, one I hated.

"You agree?" Jasper asked, raising a brow.

I scratched my forehead. "I don't know . . . I agree with him, and I agree with you."

"Solving problems, Cullen. We're out here to solve problems." He walked around to the driver's side.

"Solving problems," I sighed, following after.

While we drove back to the station, my mind wandered—I thought about this morning, how great the day started, or how weird it started. I woke up in Bella's bed, startled, alarmed, as I had no idea where I was for that one split-second before I became aware.

After we kissed, we honestly didn't talk much more—we didn't fool around any more either.

I'm not sure if deep down Bella knew what I needed, or wanted, but we just sat there—enjoying the quiet. We snuggled, cuddled in her bed. She let me hold her.

Last night, I wasn't that appreciative, thinking I was getting laid and then _not_ getting laid—thinking we shouldn't do this, and then not even getting the chance . . .

After a full eight hours rest with no tossing or turning, I woke up refreshed—as her presence had a calming effect, no matter how odd I may think she is.

Bella is actually very sweet, honest to a fault, but never nasty or malicious—from what I can tell. She might be very socially awkward, but aren't we all in some way?

She freaked out when she saw my feet on her bed—I still had my boots on, but she relaxed, admitted she was a nut and to pay her no attention.

Knowing it still irked the fuck out of her—no matter what she said—I kicked off my shoes, smiling at that cute little brunette who was kind enough to share her bed with me.

Alice was already awake—her perky ass making pancakes and shit.

Jasper spent the night, too, and he _did_ get laid . . . bastard. When I went to take a piss, he was gargling with some mouthwash, clad in his boxers.

Sitting and having breakfast with Alice and Jasper was strange. They were so comfortable with each other—like they'd known one another for years.

I had two pancakes, a cup of coffee, and then we left.

And I forgot to give Bella my phone number.

Although she didn't offer up her number either—our goodbye was weird, and so . . .

I'm thinking maybe she was just polite and didn't want to wake me up when I'd fallen out cold. After I ranted like a lunatic, my cool points went to zero. She no longer wanted to fuck me, and she was being nice, tolerating me 'til morning.

I've been in a pissy, fucked mood ever since.

I don't know why I was disappointed as I always blow it.

Here, for every time we saw each other, she admired me—stared at me like I was this sexy guy, her hero. And now . . . well, now nothing.

I'm back to square one.

**O_O**

_**W**_hen we dropped Reggie off at the cage, the Captain called us into his office. Hale and McCarty were here, too—had beaten us back to the house, and Cap. called them into his office as well.

Nervous, as we were all asked to come to the principal's office, I stood at attention with my hands clasped in front of me.

"There's gonna be some changes," Captain Vasquez said simply. "McCarty, you're with Whitlock—"

"What?" Hale and I asked in unison.

Emmett didn't say anything, looking down to his shoes.

"Hale, you're on the desk—"

My mouth made an "O" shape.

"You told him?" Hale shouted at McCarty.

"It's for your own good. In your condition—"

Hale ignored her boyfriend, looking to our captain. "Sir, I assure you. I—I mean, I'm not even showing yet. I was going to say something as soon as I started to. And, and there's no-nothing to hinder me from...I can still do my job—" Hale stammered.

"Save it. You know the deal." Captain Vasquez was fast to shut her down. "You can do assignments. There's plenty of police work to be done around here, too. It's not all about busts and collars. With Sergeant Matuella gone, and with your high rank while you were in the Navy—"

"I was a lieutenant," she whispered, "which is why—"

He put a hand up to stop her. "I was thinking you could take the Sergeant's Exam, Hale, help me keep our troop in line from here—otherwise you'd have a driver, but mostly work with me here, and from a desk." And all I could think of was great, we'd have Hale as our supervisor, another hard-ass to bark at us. "Whatever you decide . . ." Capt. waved a hand. "Congratulations."

Hale never replied, slinking back and not saying a word to anyone. I remember hearing from Emmett about how Rosalie was ex-Navy—Jasper, too. With the both of them coming from a long line of cops, nearly everyone in their family were in the Navy at some point as well. It's like their tradition—military and then police officer.

Emmett was in the military, too, still kind of is. He made a career of being a Marine, went on so many damn tours and whatnot. Then he wanted a change—like we all do—and he became a police officer. Like me, he's only on the job a year, but he's actually older than me. He's still in the reserves—disappears one long weekend a month. They haven't called him back for an actual assignment yet, but I'm sure they will. Isn't that how it goes? One weekend a month, six weeks a year? I remember that commercial, and I always knew I'd go that route if my grandfather hadn't paid my college tuition. Either way, we don't talk about it much, and he hasn't been called for assignment. I doubt Emmett could speak of such matters anyway.

I cleared my throat. "Sir…?" He'd yet to tell me who my new partner was, although now . . . Even if I was pissed at Jasper twenty minutes ago, I still wanted him as a partner.

"Morris is on vacation until the end of the week . . . When he comes back, I'll put him on foot patrol. You're no longer a rookie. I hear you're a natural, Cullen. You can get the new kid." He walked to his door, opening it and shouting, "Hey, new kid!"

Black turned, hearing his nickname and pointing to himself while he fumbled with a handful of paperwork.

"Yeah, you—" Captain called him with his finger, while I palmed my face. "Get in here."

Jasper nudged my arm. "You can teach him a lot. You'll do good."

I didn't say anything, gnashing my teeth together. I'm not a fucking babysitter, and I'm practically a rookie myself. And I have love for Emmett, but why couldn't he partner with Jacob? Leave Jasper and me alone? Jasper has seniority, and I'll be 78 Beta instead of Alpha now?

But then I had to speak up. "If anything, Emmett and I should partner up. You should get Black," I whispered back to Jasper.

He disagreed. "Emmett needs a baby-sitter."

"I heard that," Emmett laughed.

"Captain Vasquez—" Hale spoke up again.

"This isn't up for discussion," he told her. "You're a liability. I have to do what's best for all parties involved." He looked between her and Emmett.

"You mean what's best for him?" She jerked a thumb to Emmett.

"Rosie—"

She put her hand up in his face as Jacob came in. "You called, sir?"

"You're with Cullen," he said, going back behind his desk. "That's it." He waved us all out of his office.

Jasper was the first to leave, and we all followed his lead—Emmett chasing after Hale, Black walking so close to me I could feel his body heat.

I sidestepped away from him.

"You think I wanna be with Whitlock?" Emmett laughed, trying to grab her hand.

She pulled away, putting her hands up, and speedily dodging him.

"She's pregnant?" Jasper smiled.

"Yeah…" Emmett didn't look happy as he tossed me his keys.

I caught them as I was officially 78 Beta now.

"I didn't even know she was dating someone." Jasper was clueless.

"They had me filing . . . didn't want me out on foot while Morris was away," Jacob Black, rookie of the year, explained.

I looked to my watch, seeing how it was close to seven p.m. already. "Let's go eat something."

"Okay." For the most part, Black seemed pretty agreeable.

Hale disappeared, and I didn't see her on my way out. I hoped she was all right. Then again, she knew this was going to happen. I don't think it's sexist or wrong. Them being partners and _partners_ was wrong, something possibly happening because she was pregnant—whether it hindered her ability to watch Emmett's back, or she was hurt in some way, would be wrong.

So, she answers phones, does clerical work, and hands out assignments for a few months . . . I bet after she has the kid, she doesn't even come back.

Black asked if he could drive, and I laughed at him. Then we drove to my favorite Chinese joint. It also happened to be adjacent to Bella and Alice's building. Maybe I'd stepped over the line to stalker status, but I was ever so curious, contemplated ringing their bell.

_Bella gets home every day at five_ . . .

I remembered Alice telling us that.

I also remembered Alice saying she was craving Chinese food this morning—it was just one of the oddball things that fell from her mouth. Meanwhile, she was hinting at it to Jasper, and then he said they'd go to his favorite spot soon.

The chances of one them being around was slim to none, but I hoped for the best.

After ordering my food, I went to hit the head—had too much coffee again. When I got out, my combo platter was sitting on the counter, and Black was nowhere to be found.

Taking a seat, I grabbed a discarded newspaper. It was old, from the day before, but I read that shit anyway as I started on my food. Central pinged my radio, asking for assistance for a domestic disturbance, but Jasper . . . he may have a new partner, but that didn't change him. He snatched up the call real fast, before I could even place my thumb on the button to respond.

I smiled, stuffing my mouth with moo shu pork.

"Hey." Jacob waved, coming over and joining me.

"You gonna eat?" I chewed my food, fast to swallow.

"Nah…I'm good." He chuckled, rubbing his stomach. "The girls, man . . . this uniform." He shook his head.

I nodded, raising a brow and checking out my horoscope. It meant dick since it was a day old, but I wondered if it had any relevance to that shit that happened yesterday.

"…she asked me if I knew you—"

"What?" I almost dropped my fork. I don't use chopsticks.

"This li'l brunette—asked if I knew you, said she knew you from working the beat. She didn't recognize me." He pointed to himself. "I gave her my number—"

"Where'd you tell her I was?" I asked.

"Around…" He nodded. "She just wanted to know where Whitlock and Cullen were—wondered if you guys got transferred."

"What was her name?"

"I don't know," he laughed. "She was quick to run into the building, but I caught her—gave her the digits." He looked proud of himself. "If she called me, it's not like I'd forget those brown eyes." He whistled.

"Right." I went back to my food, but I wasn't hungry anymore. "Let's just go."

"What? They haven't called us—"

"We still got three hours left." I threw my food container into the trash. "We can drive around—we sit in the car and wait, watch the streets."

Black went back to being eager as fuck for action as soon as we entered the car.

And I was content to stake out in front of Bella's place, or Ming's, the Chinese restaurant.

_**Thank you for reading. **_

_**Please leave me your thoughts. **_

_**Sorry for the lack of Bella. This is Edward's story. Don't worry. The pairing is E/B **_

_**v**_

_**v**_

_**v**_


	6. Edward Part One

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

**NOTES/PLEASE READ: **I don't know if it's confusing for you guys or what. But some scenes feature 2 or more people, so I take turns referencing them by their first and/or last names. It's not to confuse. I just don't want it to be repetitive. ****just in case**** For those who don't know: Edward Cullen, Jasper Whitlock, Rosalie Hale, Emmett McCarty, Jacob Black.

Other surnames - diff. cops - will also be mentioned. Unless it's a name from the Twi-Saga, I'd say it's fair that you do NOT have to remember them. LOL. To be realistic, there are more police officers than just the ones featured, they'll interact with others is what I'm trying to say.

**Some of you asked: **Yes, although the mention of him has been vague - purposely done - Carlisle is Edward's father in this story.

**I've taken MANY creative liberties, but this fic will be sort of canon in the sense that . . . MOST couples will be paired the same? This is also NYC, so characters may have a different description, be a different race or ethnicity. I aim to mix it up to make it realistic.**

**This is also Edward's story. I don't know - I have no idea - if down the line I'll do a Bella POV. As of right now, we're still at the beginning, and I don't know how long this fic will be either. **

**I'm not holding back chaps. I don't have a schedule. When they're written and beta'd, I post them :-)**

**Edward and Bella?** It won't be THAT slow of a burn. Promise. Time will pass between every chapter, except for obviously 2 part chappys. Like, ch6 & ch7. Ch8 & ch9. This story is a diff. format than what I'm used to...as I'm not recording their EVERY move. Rest assured that, just because you don't see it acted out, all - and every - questions you have will be answered, likely referenced in another chapter.

**Nevertheless, I hope you all like it. Thanks for tuning in. Sorry for the long note. People asked some questions, and I thought I'd inform you all. **

**Hope you enjoy learning more about Edward in this chapter! **We've all got stories, skeletons, shit we're ashamed of from our childhoods or family - upbringing - and Edward's story might just be a common one. Sorry if it's a trigger to any one of you guys.** *Tissues might be needed***

**AND THANK YOU! I have read and loved every one of your reviews! Thanks a million! Your kind words keep me going. I'd reply to each one, but I'm pretty sure you guys would rather I spent my time writing more copward, more Riders? :-) Know that I've read your kind words and loved them. I can't thank you all enough! You guys keep me going strong!**

**Enjoy. **

* * *

"**Offbeat"**

**Chapter Six: Edward Part One**

_**I**_t's the mysteries that elude us that excite us. Sometimes we can't even seem to figure life out. I guess that's why it's still worth living—a surprise party full of twists and turns we don't ever see coming.

And we never really understand.

Maybe we can't understand . . .

Like, two guys, both headed for the same plane. One gets there a little early. The other guy gets stuck behind an accident on the Van Wyck and ends up missing the plane . . . Next plane isn't for three hours.

Bad luck, right?

Except the plane blows up and lands in the Atlantic Ocean—no survivors.

What's that all about?

"The detective route—that's not a bad way to go," I told Jasper.

I'd never say this out loud, wouldn't want to jinx us, but it had been a quiet night. We were all at the coffee shop—Jasper, Emmett, Jacob, and I—and it was toward the ass-end of our shift.

"Sure." He nodded. "If you don't mind staring at rap sheets and reports—deciphering forensics. And your day won't end when your shift does. You'll never be home. Your life will literally become the job. Those dudes are always busy—never see their wives or kids. Fucking Homicide? They never rest until shit is solved. Missing Persons? Forget about it." He sipped his tea. He'd switched his choice of beverage; Alice says it's better for him. They're like…a thing now, and I hated that he—fucking Emmett, too—they had it so easy with women.

"Well, it beats sitting around in a car—it's better than boring. Driving around in circles, just waiting for shit to happen. And it's not like I have a wife or kids—doubt I'll ever," I mumbled, restless as fuck in this moment.

"Do I bore you?" he laughed. "Is that why? Maybe you'll have more fun with Black."

"Huh?" Jacob looked away from the chick behind the counter.

"Maybe even a plainclothes officer—undercover?" I asked. "They take cops off patrol all the time to run with Anti-Crime."

"True." Jasper pursed his lips.

"I was thinking of that, too," Jacob said.

"That girl—she ever call you?" I asked him.

It was either Bella or Alice who he gave his number to, and that was three days ago. Truth be told, I hoped it was Alice and he said so in front of Jasper. I wasn't trying to start trouble—okay, I wasn't sure. But I definitely wanted to know if it had been Bella. That would mean she moved fast, already going for another cop. Maybe she had daddy issues and cops are her thing? No. I still held her up on this…fucking pedestal, and I couldn't give her so little credit.

"Nah," he sighed, sitting back.

"When I first started—" Emmett smiled, looking from Jasper back to Jacob. "The ladies fucking loved me. I was paired with Morris before you." He hit Jacob's arm.

I snorted, knowing because he'd bragged about his prospects. That was before he'd started screwing Hale, of course. "Tell him about that woman on the subway."

"On the subway?" Jasper asked, laughing. "I hate working the subway. It's always so hot, and the rats . . . You screwed—got lucky working the subway?"

Emmett raised his coffee to his lips. "Stand clear of the closing doors..."

We all erupted into chuckles.

"I haven't seen you around lately." Jasper was correct, as he'd turned to face me. "Alice wants to know when you're coming back over—if you're still coming tomorrow. Bella—I don't know. She's confused? What happened that night anyway?"

"Nothing," I said.

"Nothing?" All three of them were hanging off my every word.

"Nothing," I repeated. "We chilled, fell asleep." My eyes rolled, a sigh escaping my lips. "She didn't seem interested."

"She threw you a bone. That's how it works. She made the effort, and now it's your move." Jasper hit my arm again. "Ball's in your court, so to speak."

"You didn't make a move?" Emmett asked.

I wasn't about to give them a play-by-play, a rundown of that night.

"Man, women expect you to make a move." Jacob nodded. "If you don't, they wonder if something's wrong with them. _'Is my butt too big?_'" He had this breathy chick voice. "_Oh, I doubt he likes me..._If they shoot you down, it sucks, but if they don't, hey..."

Jasper chuckled. "The kid's right. You gotta do something to show you're interested. If you go too far, well..." He sat back.

"Go with a big gesture. Not something kinky, just sweet...romantic. Chicks dig that," Emmett said.

"Says the man who's still in the dog house." Jasper finished. "They have a name for suckers like you."

"What's that?" Emmett asked.

"Dad," Jasper said, and we all laughed, even McCarty. "I can't believe you and my cousin…" Jazz trailed off, shaking his head. "Although...she's never had the best taste in men. That Royce douche, he was in the service with her . . . He used to do a number." I had no idea what he was talking about, but I'd guess Rosalie's ex abused her in some way. I don't understand women who stay, let men do that to them, like my mother. But Emmett's nothing like that . . . Rosalie's taste must have gotten better. I don't know as I can hardly understand women like that.

"Touché," McCarty admitted, drinking his coffee. "But I know women. I've been with women from all over the world, on three different continents, and I know how to treat them . . . Rosie and me are a different story—we were friends first, partners, I fell in love," he sighed, "before the sex. It was cool. We'll work shit out. We're having a kid, which is fucking crazy, but now she's stuck with me." Emmett looked to me. "You coming to Big Frankie's wedding tomorrow or what?"

I shook my head, content not to do a damn thing—watch TV and enjoy having the apartment to myself.

"I hoped you were coming to Alice and Bella's?" Jasper asked.

"That's a still a plan?" I could hardly believe only a week had passed since we were at the courthouse.

He nodded. "Yeah, and you're still invited."

"Guess that's a no," Emmett said.

"I guess." My mouth pulled up into a grin.

"We should talk later." Emmett stared at me.

"About?" I asked.

He waved a hand. "Shit is changing…I just—"

One thought came to mind. "You want Hale to move in."

He winced. "I didn't wanna have this convo amongst…others, but yeah. I want Rosie to move in…I—"

Jasper chuckled. "He wants _you_ to move out."

Huffing a breath, I leaned back. By now I was hoping our radios would go off. We could prolong this conversation. It's not like Jasper truly gave a fuck, and Jacob wasn't paying attention anyway.

"It's a two-bedroom," Emmett said. "Decent rent—clean, no cockroaches."

"I know._ I_ approached you with the ad back when we were at the academy...We'd just found out which precinct we'd be working at, remember?" I raised a brow.

Last year, I was just anxious to move out of my mother's house. Like Hale, my sister went through a nasty breakup. Well, divorce really. Kate's husband, Miguel, was sleeping with their babysitter, and then she moved back home with their two kids. I adore my nieces, but Mom's apartment—the place I grew up in, down on the Lower East Side—just got too fucking crowded. Plus, I was starting my career, an actual career, not just a job—twenty-two years old, excited to be on my own.

Now I'm twenty-three, and I might have to move back home.

This sucked. Also, uptown—Morningside Heights, where we live now—isn't a great place to raise a family either. Anywhere in Manhattan—okay, so I'm lying again . . . Fuck me. I had no idea how to dissuade Emmett from moving Rosalie in. Regardless, they should find something cheaper and yet bigger out in Queens or Brooklyn.

Most cops and firemen get married and move out to Staten Island. Why couldn't they do that shit? Why fuck up my deal?

"It's not like you have to leave tomorrow." Emmett chuckled. "I'm asking as a favor. We _could_ look for a new place, but it's not like you could afford our crib on your own—"

"You could...if _I_ moved in," Jacob interjected, leaning into the table. "I'm living with my grandfather—"

"Stop talking." Emmett put his hand up.

I looked to Jacob, wondering if I could live with him _and_ be his partner.

"Your mom's is mad cool," Emmett said. "Esme will let you come back until you get your shit together—"

"_My_ shit _is _together!" I laughed.

"You don't wanna move . . . fine." He put his hands up.

"Now I look like the asshole because _you're_ having a kid." I pointed to myself.

"No. Don't feel bad." He checked his watch. "We made it—can go back to the house now." He finished his coffee.

"Look," Jasper whispered. "You don't wanna go home—don't. You can stay with me." He lives a bit downtown in a studio. "You can have my couch." It's not as close to the station, but the bus stops in front of his house—you can take it straight to the precinct. "Come on. You're a single guy. You could live in a shithole. Just let them have the apartment."

"We can totally find a place together." Jacob waved a finger.

"Whatever." I had nothing else to say, and I hated that I was being persuaded just to appease Emmett.

Although I understood, respected it, and knew moving out was the right thing to do, I didn't have to like it.

/=/=/=/=/=/

Feeling wired after changing back into my street clothes, I left the precinct—my mind whirring, worrying about my next move. Usually, I'd just go home and take it out on my keyboard. That wouldn't work tonight, and I just didn't want to be there—or see Emmett. He offered me a ride, but I declined.

Instead, I found myself on our beat, walking at a leisurely pace, pulling on a cigarette I bummed off someone. I needed to work off this energy and walked into The Twilight Lounge.

The stale stench of beer filled the air, the place dark and practically empty. It was another dive that graced our streets.

"Hank!" I shouted for the bartender.

"Officer Cullen." He smiled. "You wanna see my liquor license?"

I nodded, rolling my eyes. "Carlisle around?"

He sucked his teeth, almost as if something was "too bad". "You just missed him, or—" Carlisle's best friend stared down the bar. "Your father was in the back—hustling some kids by the pool tables," he laughed. "I'm pretty sure he took off, though."

I trailed my hand through my hair, looking toward the back as well. It didn't look like anyone was there. Then again, there's a private room back there, where people are always going in and coming out of. I'm sure it houses some sort of illegal activity, but Hank's always been good to me, and I had no probable cause except being a nosy fucker.

"He's still staying with that one woman?" I asked. My father makes his rounds, lives off the different females he can charm, and works these dead-end, shitty jobs until he loses them and moves onto the next—job and lady.

Hank lifted a beer mug and wiped it dry with a rag. "Yeah, you want the address? Her name's Irina—a Russian broad. I'm sure he'd love to hear from you, see you."

I tapped the bar. "It's cool—I'll see him around." And I had no idea why I sought him out anymore anyway.

The man doesn't want to know me, doesn't give a flying fuck about my mother, my sister, my nieces, or me.

As a kid, not having Dad around was hard. Especially since he just left one day.

I was ten years old. Kate was fourteen. She was always looking out for me, while Mom was at work, and Dad was . . . wherever he was. My parents always fought. As soon as Dad would stumble in drunk at some ungodly hour, the shouting began, and then it'd just continue . . . but my father's fist was always the show stopper.

He would always came home, though.

Then, one day, he didn't. It wasn't like he went very far. He's never even left Manhattan.

In his heyday, you could usually find him downtown—playing the piano and taking requests at some swanky restaurant or a hotel lobby. The man could play anything. He hit it big for a while there—got the opportunity to play in an orchestra. It was only to do the score for some movie, but that was a big payday. My parents were less stressed. Mom wasn't working at the diner…

Her normal nine-to-five is being a teller at Chase Manhattan Bank. To make extra money, she'd pick up dinner shifts at the local diner.

She was home, made dinner every night for two whole weeks. We had cable for a month. I got a new pair of Nike Air Force One's, which were the coolest sneakers back in the day . . .

I think Mom bought Kate some new clothes, or makeup.

It didn't matter.

Things were amazing.

They weren't as hard.

My whole family—we were all happy. And I'll always remember that. It sticks out in my mind, all of us being so care-free . . . and I finally got a pair of Nikes.

Sadly, Mom spent all this money—cash she thought we had as Dad kept waving around that check. But when the bills started coming in, when Mom had spent the money she had—that was set aside for the regular bills at first—my father didn't have the money.

He owed his bookie some cash. Then he thought he'd double the money he had left by going down to the track; meanwhile, he lost it all.

My mother eventually called her father—Grandpa Platt, the man who sent me to college—for the money. He bailed us out like he always did, but Mom was way too proud to accept handouts_ all_ the time.

If the lights were going to get turned off, or we absolutely needed something . . . she'd call him.

Things were the way they were.

I never knew any different.

I never knew what I was missing out on, nor did I care.

As a child, I didn't see the bad; I saw my dad. No matter what was going on, I admired the man who taught me how to play the piano, the man who was always so proud to have me as his son.

When I was young, I did admire him, until the day I saw him put his hands on my mother. I think I was like eight or nine? Before that, Mom always said she was clumsy, or maybe I didn't notice.

He beat her real bad right before he moved out.

I remembered wanting to kill him, but I was still hurt . . . I didn't know if I wanted him to stay or leave, or what.

When he left, though, money got even tighter. Carlisle was a piece-of-shit, but he helped out the little he could—the little he didn't manage to blow on booze and gambling. It counted as something, and when he was gone . . .

It was as though he showed interest—took active roles in our lives just because he lived with us.

When he left . . .

He never stopped by.

He never gave my mother a dime.

He never came by to take us for the day, or bring us to McDonald's like the other dads who didn't live with their kids. I'm not sure what he was supposed to do, but my friend Chris—his pop used to pick him up during the week and take him someplace. I went with them a few times . . . it was nice.

Even when Mom dragged us to whichever bar he was passed out in to tear him a new one . . . to shove us in his face, ask for money, and for him to get his shit together.

He'd wave, tell me to be good for my mother, look out for Mom and Kate, before he'd turn around and say, "Stop busting my balls, Esme".

My mother sent me looking for him one time. Things were just that bad. I hopped the turn-style on the subway because I couldn't pay the fare, went uptown to the Twilight Lounge to seek him out. He wasn't there. On my way home . . . I tried not to cry, but I did, having failed to do as my mother asked, and I was really hungry. A police officer stopped me, asked me what was wrong, and I was scared to say anything . . . afraid that if I told him the truth, he'd take Kate and me away from Mom.

I'll never forget his name, Officer Morales. He promised me, whatever I said, nothing would happen. I told him . . . I told him Mom was upset, she had no money for food.

Officer Morales took me to the corner store. He bought a carton of milk and a box of mac and cheese, and a soda for me. It was one of the nicest things a stranger had ever done.

I told Mom that Dad got the stuff . . . that he took me to the store instead of giving me money. Thankfully, things were never quite as bad as that time.

Mom took Carlisle back once.

I was fourteen. Kate was a senior in high school, and Miguel had just knocked her up . . .

Although Mom didn't freak out—show outward signs of doing so—one morning I woke up to see Carlisle pouring himself a cup of coffee. It was like he never left.

Then two weeks later, it was like he never came back . . .

After that, things changed. I think I stopped caring so much. My sister and her boyfriend—who she eventually married—moved in. In lieu of college, Kate took that money grandpa set aside for her, and she got them an apartment, a car—they lived off that shit, and then a few years later she was pregnant again.

Mom and I made do . . .

When I turned fifteen, I started delivering pizzas, but only around our neighborhood—Alphabet City, the Baruch housing projects—basically only around _our_ housing project, all the large buildings . . . Actually, in total, there's about two-thousand apartments.

Yet, Mom never took my money. My job was to be a student and buy things with the cash I'd made. She told me that would help her out—me taking care of myself in a way. I was told to save the money for clothes, and she'd worry about the bills. But she didn't want me working in the first place. Like I said, she wanted me to focus on school, study all the time.

I always snuck a couple of dollars into her purse whenever I could.

Most kids I knew stole from their moms.

I could never do such a thing.

After high school, I was accepted to Pace University. I dedicated myself to my studies and my music, and I used to stock shelves at the bodega down the block. It was cool, and I'd gotten lucky. Amongst all the struggle and whatnot, I had the opportunity to go to college because my grandfather was a generous guy.

I did what I did, and in my second year, my mother started dating again. That was cool, too. By that time, I realized my mother wasn't a nun or some saint. Dad was doing whatever . . .

I graduated—not with honors or anything—but I graduated, and I felt I could do anything—any-fucking-thing.

They fill your head with such bullshit, and you find yourself eating that crap up.

After one crappy job and then another, I took the police officer exam. When I passed, that's when I felt like I accomplished something, and that's when I thought my life was beginning.

But I'm still me . . . still kind of lost, still unsure of everything.

Thirty minutes, a train and bus ride later, I was digging in my pocket for keys. I never gave Mom back the set I'd had since I was eight—coming home to an empty house.

The apartment—the cozy place that's always felt like home—was warm, the scent of garlic, dinner having been cooked, lingering in the air. It was quiet, the low hum from the television reaching me in the hall. Walking in, I saw my mother on the couch.

"Hey." She smiled up at me. "I knew it was you."

I sat down next to her.

"I told your sister to send you one of those text-thingys." She waved a hand. "I know that's the best way to reach you. I can't figure it out." She grabbed her phone, flipping it open, holding it close to her face and then bringing it away.

"When are you gonna get yourself some glasses?" I laughed.

She sighed, turning to face me. "I have the pair from the drug store."

"Right." I nodded.

Silence fell upon us, and I focused on the news—not that I ever do. I can't stand the news, hearing about all this depressing shit within an hour's time.

"Uncle Eddie!" my nine-year-old niece shouted for me.

"You're supposed to be in bed, young lady," Mom scolded.

"Mommy said I can wait up for her." She sat her little ass between my mother and me, her black hair a stringy mess down her shoulders, her green eyes bright.

"Kate's working at that club, right?" I grimaced, my sister very recently getting a waitressing job at this posh spot in SoHo. While she was married, she was a stay-at-home-mom, which I thought was really freaking cool of her.

"It's a restaurant." My niece got comfortable, placing her feet on my lap, her head on Mom's knee. "Sometimes, there's movie stars." She nodded, matter-of-factly, and it made me smile. "Mommy said she'd be home by one o'clock, and there's no school tomorrow." She turned to see my mother. "Right, Nanna? Plus, I took a nap, so I could." She faced me again.

"I missed you, short stuff." I poked her side.

She giggled and sat up again, resting her head on my bicep. "You never come over or take us to the zoo anymore. Maddy misses you, too." She spoke of her five-year-old sister, Madeline. "She's sleeping, but since you're here . . . we should wake her up."

"Don't you dare," Mom warned, "and Uncle Eddie's been busy." Her eyes found mine. "That child is even more energetic than you were. I can't keep up."

"We'll go…soon," I told Larissa. Unlike my father, I'd never make my nieces a promise I couldn't keep. Then I wondered if Bella liked the zoo? That wouldn't be awkward, and it'd be something we could do together—like a date?

"Not this weekend—but next Sunday?" I asked. "We can be there as soon as it opens. If you're not too busy, of course."

Larissa tapped her chin. "I'll have to check, but I'm pretty sure I'm free that day."

I put my hands up. "I'd hate to take up too much of your precious time."

"You're worth it." She squeezed my arm, and I felt like a million bucks.

"Thanks." I kissed her cheek.

Mom reached over and ran her fingers through my hair. "What brings you home? Everything okay?"

"Uh…" I puffed my cheeks. "Emmett's having a baby…" I really didn't know what to say, or if there was anything truly wrong.

"Oh, Lord . . . Who'd he knock up?"

"Knock, knock…" Larissa tapped on my arm.

"You need to get in bed." Mom left the couch, gesturing to the hall. "When Mommy comes in, I'll have her wake you," she lied. Larissa's head will hit that pillow, and she'll be out for the count. She was already pretty much relaxed, her weight leaning into my side.

"But Nanna—" She whined.

"Go." Mom pointed.

"She told you." I tickled her side. "I hear you're staying in my old room?"

She gasped, hopping up and facing me. "Me and Maddy sleep in your bed. Mommy says we can paint it soon—when she has monies and stuff."

I nodded. "Sounds like a plan. You tell me when, and I'll help."

She grinned. "Can Emmett help, too? He's big and strong, like a superhero." It sounded like my very, too young niece had a crush.

"Um...I'll ask," I said.

"Larissa Marie—"

My niece look put out as she left the couch. "I'm going…" She skipped away.

"Goodnight!" I nearly shouted after her.

She ran back to kiss my cheek, and then she was gone again.

"How's this working out?" I whispered.

"Eh…" Mom sighed, raising her brows. "There's never a dull moment around here—I'll tell you that much."

"You're okay, though? You need money—"

"No." She put a hand up to stop me. "Kate's making great money at this place. The kids go to after-school . . . I'm able to pick them up. We have a good system—"

"Esme—" I heard some dude say.

"Yeah, honey?"

I furrowed my brow, leaving the couch. "Who—"

"It's just Steve." She wouldn't look at me when she said that, focusing on her nails.

"Who's here?" Steve asked from her bedroom.

"It's Edward."

My mother's had one on-again, off-again boyfriend since my father bounced, and Steve gets a little free with his hands after one too many as well. I don't know what it is with my mother—choosing these men. It's like a pattern with her.

"He's living here now?" I tried to keep my voice down. The last time I saw him, I broke his fucking nose and his wrist. "What's his gimmick this time?" He comes around for a while, and then he's gone—and each time he leaves, he takes something else with him. Either steals something useless or causes my mother grief in some way. "With the girls and Kate…? You're letting him stay here?" I fired off another question. "He's a fucking scumbag! If I so much as hear about him being alone with Maddy and Larissa—I don't trust him. How can you—"

"Edward!"

"Don't 'Edward' me!" I put my hands up. "What the fuck is this?"

"Nanna?" Larissa hollered. "What's a scumbag?"

"Christ...Keep your voice down," Mom scolded me, leaving the couch. "Go to sleep!" she called out.

"The last time—you said it _was_ the last time." I was in disbelief, shocked that she'd take him back. "You like being his fucking punching bag?" If she kept this up, one of these days, I was going to kill him.

"Don't talk to me that way." She waved a finger, tears in her eyes; meanwhile, I bet that asshole could hear me. But he wouldn't dare make his presence known or face me. "We got to talking. He's sober, ninety days—"

"What is it with you and these drunks?" I kept my voice down.

The tears spilled over, and she was sobbing, and I officially felt like a piece-of-shit. "It's—he's nothing like your father."

"You're right." I nodded, albeit heartbroken. "Steve's worse."

"He's not—he cares about me."

"Trust me. He doesn't. You're delusional…" I didn't know what to say. "Look, you need money, I have some, or I'll figure out how to get it. You need company? You have two granddaughters, me, Kate—" I wasn't going to get into her love life. "Mom—"

"You must be so disappointed in me." She kept her head down.

"No," I said, maybe lied. I wasn't sure. "I just—I know you can do better. You deserve so much more than...anything Steve could offer you. All he does is hurt you . . . I don't know what I'm saying." I massaged my temples. "If he touches you again, he's dead—"

"It's hard sometimes—living up to your standards," she said, taking hold of my hand. "You were always too good for this place—always bound for greatness. You became a cop, but . . ." She sniffled.

I cleared my throat of the lump. "You're going to get hurt—" I stopped talking when Steve rapidly walked out of her bedroom, tucking his shirt in.

"Steve, don't—" Mom reached for him, and I held her back.

He didn't acknowledge her, which was a smart move, before he left.

"Does he have the keys?" I'd change the locks first thing in the morning.

Mom covered her face, sobbing into her hands and plopping down onto the couch. "I love all of you . . . but sometimes, I get lonely, and . . . I'm going to be forty-five. It's not like I can have my pick of the litter." Her gaze was cold as she stared up at me.

"You're mad at me?" I thought it was funny. "Because that piece-of-trash left? Because he left you're upset with me?" It was comical in that heartbreaking way, exasperatingly so.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then she dropped her shoulders. "No…I could never." She reached for my hand. "Emmett's having a baby—are you moving back in?" She got right down to business again, wiping her eyes.

"No," I said. "He'll keep the place, but . . ."

"Where will you stay?"

I caught another of her tears before it fell.

She held my hand to her face. "We can move the girls to my room—I'll take the couch."

"No way," I said. "I have a friend."

She nodded, and then we both turned for the door—hearing keys.

Katie came waltzing in. She was talking on her cell phone, her mouth moving very fast. "I'll meet you there—I just have to change. Okay. Bye," she laughed, quick to compose it when she faced us. "Baby bro."

"Where are you going?" Mom asked.

"Drinks with a couple of friends from work." She swallowed, sitting across from us in the chair.

As I stared at her, I noticed her eyes were glassy and dilated, her leg bouncing.

"What—" I didn't even know where to start with her now. I'd heard—from my mother last week—that Kate was going out a lot. She was hanging with friends, and my mother . . . She thought it'd be good for her, since Kate never had the chance to be a kid, a mother at seventeen, married by eighteen. It's weird. That was my mother's story, too.

"Mommy!" Larissa came back out.

Kate scoffed, smiling and heaving herself off the chair. "You should be in bed, monster." She disappeared to care for her daughter.

"What the hell is going on here?" I asked myself, loud enough for Mom to hear.

"You don't like Steve—he left." She gestured to the door. "What's wrong now? What else is bothering Edward this evening? We're fine. We make do, take care of ourselves. I love you, but come over to spend time with us. Not judge us and—"

"I'm not judging. I worry about you guys and this shit is crazy. She's going out? She's got two kids, she's twenty-seven—"

"Your sister goes out for a couple hours after work. Big deal."

"Does she spend any time with the girls at all anymore?"

"Of course. She only works four days a week." Mom snorted. "Miguel . . . She won't allow him to visit—she's got 'em by the balls. Child support is being taken out of his check."

"He cheated on her . . . what'd he do he can't see the girls?" Maybe my sister's ex wasn't my favorite person in the world. But he doesn't have a drinking problem or a substance abuse problem. He has a good job with the MTA, driving a city bus in Queens. He never placed his hands on her . . . He was a very good father despite not being able to keep his dick in his pants.

Mom shrugged. "I've tried talking to your sister. He calls all the time." She sat back, flipping through the channels. "I mean, if the man wants to be a father, she should let him. That wasn't their problem. Know what I'm sayin'?" She gave me this look, the same one she gives any time sex is mentioned or insinuated.

I massaged my forehead. "I have to piss," I lied.

My sister was in the kitchen, grabbing the Brita water pitcher from the fridge. "How you doin'?" she asked me, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

Gnashing my teeth together, I grabbed her jaw, bringing her farther into the light.

"Eddie!" She slapped my chest, pushing me away. "What's your problem?"

"What the fuck are you on?" I whispered.

She laughed. "Narco-cop is on the prowl—"

"I'm serious."

She rolled her eyes. "It was just a pick-me-up. A couple of the girls had some blow. It's not a problem—only the second time in my life I've tried drugs. I was so tired—Maddy was up all night and stayed home from school today. She was sick, which means Larissa is next." She shrugged out of her jacket. "I'm fine. I just have a million different things going on at once—"

"Kate, what are you doing? Did you move back in so Mom could raise your kids?" I eyed her purse on the counter, and I wanted to look into it—see if she had drugs on her, see if she was telling the truth. If she's not holding, she likely doesn't have a problem.

"Fuck you." She stared at me. "First of all, _I_ raise my babies, _I_ care for them. And no, I'm not a drug addict or anything. My God. We're not perfect like you," she giggled. "You come here—you judge us. You forget that you come right from here—"

"This isn't about me. What the—"

"You act like you're so much better than us. You're just a cop." She shook her head. "If I worked more, I'd make more money than you. We are doing just fine, Mom and me. And so what if Steve comes over? I saw him running out of here while I was coming in. Mom gets laid every so often. Big deal. You should try it some time—"

"You're just like Mom." I widened my arms. "I can't talk to you . . ."

"We're fine." She drawled, kicking off her shoes. "See? I won't go out. Will that make you happy?"

I nodded, grabbing her pocketbook.

"Ed!" She tried to take it away from me.

I kept my back to her, emptying the contents onto the table. She stood to my side, tapping her foot, jaw squared. "The only thing you'll find in there is Advil."

Moving shit around, she was correct—wasn't lying. "Kate—"

"I did it once, Edward," she sighed. "Where's your faith in me? How'd you even notice? I mean..."

"I'm trained to notice." I helped her put all her stuff back. "The shit I see on the reg—it's hard." To me, it seems like everyone has a drug problem, everyone is up to no good—

"It's me, Edward. Jesus. I'm not some perp." She left my side. "I have all this energy." She stretched her neck. "Do you wanna go for a drink with me?"

"You know I don't drink."

"Maybe you should . . . lighten up, bro. You need to do something." I never replied to that. "This floor could use a mop." She grabbed the bucket in the corner.

"Right," I said, backing away.

"Wait . . . talk to me. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," I said.

"Any girlfriends?"

"Nope," I sighed. "I'll call you…I told Larissa I'd take her and Maddy to the zoo."

"Oh, that'd be awesome!"

"Awesome," I agreed.

_**Thank you for reading**_

_**Please leave me your thoughts. **_


	7. Edward Part Two

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

**Again, thank you all for reading and reviewing. Your kind words are inspiring, and I apologize if the last chapter made some of you sad :/ Crap. It made me sad and I wrote it. LMAO. **

**Enjoy, babes! Mwah! Huggles and kisses!**

**Also, like I've said before, I don't have a posting schedule...I'm just going with the flow, posting whenever. **

* * *

"**Offbeat"**

**Chapter Seven: Edward Part Two**

It was around one-thirty when I left my mother's house, and I was still awake—wired and aware, feeling like I didn't belong in my own skin. Going home would have been ideal, but I thought about some of the things my sister said.

Had I turned into this wholesome, goody-two-shoes fucker with no sense of humor?

_Did_ I think I was better than them?

Had I forgotten where I'd come from?

Did I need to have my nightstick surgically removed from my asshole?

Should I have the drink she suggested?

In my whole life—even at twenty-three years old—I've been drunk once.

When I was sixteen, a couple of buddies and I stole an eighteen-pack from Chris's fridge. He knew he was going to get in trouble. It was this big case of beer. One of his parents were sure to notice. When they did, the beer was gone, and we were all schnocked.

We had a good time, and I didn't even get in trouble.

_Boys will be boys and all that shit. _

But seeing what alcohol could do to a person…

Seeing how it'd destroyed the lives of so many around me, I never touched the stuff.

Jasper disagreed with me. We'd spoken about it one day in passing. He said I couldn't blame the alcohol—I should blame the drinker. Everyone has free will, and they're going to do what they want, when they want to do it.

Since I was off the next day, I stopped back in the Twilight Lounge to see Hank—on my way back uptown. He laughed, said I spent too much time in this neighborhood. Maybe I did. Who knows?

"Um…gimme a beer."

"What kind?" he asked.

I pursed my lips, staring at the selection he had on tap, and yet I still didn't know which one I'd like. When Bella inquired about me drinking, I lied to sound normal? Like a regular guy who drinks beer?

"Look, kid…" Hank leaned toward me. "Go home, jerk your chain, get a good night's sleep. You _are_ a good kid, and I'd love to take your money…but I don't want to."

"Is my money not green?" I asked.

I was growing increasingly tired of people telling me what I was or wasn't—how I was, how I acted, how I _should_ be.

The funny thing?

Nobody fucking knows me, nor do they have the faintest clue . . . about _how_ I am, or how I think.

Not even my family.

Tonight proved that.

He sighed. "What are you having?"

"A double of Seagram's—VO." That came to mind, having tripped over enough of those empty bottles as a kid.

He nodded. "Daddy's drink."

I ignored that, keeping my head down, as he served me. I just wanted to get drunk, feel better.

"You want me to call him?"

"No," I said, grabbing for the glass.

Hank smiled. "You want his attention—there are better ways to grab it, Edward."

"Don't fucking tell me—" Instead of reaching out and punching him in the face, I slammed the drink back. It burned—creating a fire in its wake as it slid down.

"Lemme guess…you want another?"

I took in a shaky breath. "And a Coke." I slapped a twenty down on the bar.

"Your father and I always goofed…hoped you'd come here for your first drink." He slid the glass on over.

"Shut up about my father." In one large gulp, I finished my second drink, and my brain . . . I was relaxed, a bit fuzzy around the edges.

"This is it." He poured me another one. "Three doubles for someone who doesn't drink—"

"I do drink," I lied, telling myself to nurse this one. The small sips just made it taste nastier, and I drank it back again. "Another."

"No…you're cool? You're relaxed? Get a taxi, go home, and sleep it off."

I slapped another ten on the bar, and then I took a look around. There were two guys practically passed out at a table, one guy had his eyes closed, drink at his lips. "Looks like I'm your only paying customer." There's never anyone in here, and I wonder how he stays open.

He groaned, giving me another, and then another followed that one.

While I sat there . . . and I thought about nothing . . .wanting to feel better, wondering what was so fucking special about this Seagram's . . . How it could be so powerful, compel people and shit.

And then time moved up a lot faster.

Suddenly, it was last call for alcohol, and Hank couldn't serve me even if he wanted to.

"It's—it's against the law," I laughed. "Last call!" The bar was empty.

"Carlisle's gonna be here in five minutes."

"That fuck?" I knocked over my forgotten soda, finding that hysterical. "Why'd'ju call him? He get out from under Anastasia?"

"Irina." Hank corrected me. "She's a nice girl. Look, it's been a while since you've seen your pops. Maybe he still hustles here and there, hangs out here with me, but he cleaned himself up. He's been sober for over six months."

"HA!" I cackled. "That motherfucker is a piece-of-shit! That scumbag, Steve . . . Kate's doing coke, and . . . my nieces are so cute." I smiled.

"I'm gonna put on a pot of coffee—"

"No," I said, standing and straightening up. After pulling my jacket closed and pushing my hair back, I went for the door. "I'm out."

"Wait—"

I didn't stop, or wait, or see my father.

I got the fuck out of there, walking zig-zag-like along the avenue—my avenue, where I spend my days, patrolling this shit.

"Cullen, that you?"

Whipping around, I saw 78 Alpha's RMP, only Soriano and Hobbes who work first watch, were riding in it—those fuckers never fill up the tank for the second shift, Larson and Collins. They always gotta tell us when we come on for third.

"Make—make sure you get gas," I laughed. "Oh, wait…I don't care." I waved them away.

"Cullen!"

"What?" I shouted back.

"Edward?"

I turned so fast, I almost fell, hearing my father. His Irish brogue was as thick as it's always been. "Fuck you!" I gave him the finger.

"Shite." Dad held his forehead, rapidly walking toward me. "How pissed are ya?" Guess he could tell I was drunk, or Hank told him.

"Cullen…" Soriano was in my face now. "You all right? Want us to call McCarty?" He looked my father up and down. "Who's this?"

"I'm his father." Carlisle stood to his full height. "Can we help you, officer?"

"Just ignore this fuck." I nudged Pop away.

Soriano laughed. "Cullen, I didn't know you were a Paddy."

"A Paddy?" I shouted.

It's not that I'm ashamed to be Irish, far from it. Along with my union dues, shit gets taken out of my check for the Order of Hibernians. Being Irish is just not something I think or care about, but I did right now.

"Yeah, Irish." Soriano shrugged.

"We're American." My father was full of shit, although he sounded more like a New Yorker now, disguising his voice. He came over here in a basket or something back in the day. Not literally, but that's close to how he got here. My mother married an Irish hooligan, and Grandpa Platt—who's a second-generation Brit—never approved. Their relationship was like . . . Israel and Palestine's.

"Paddy this," I grabbed my balls, "you guinea motherfuck—"

"Edward!" Carlisle shook me. "He's had a little too much to drink."

"I can see that." Soriano chuckled.

I blinked, smoothing down my shirt. "You need help with something?"

"No," Soriano laughed, turning back to Hobbes. "We can drop you off at home."

"I'm fine—" And I really was, and then I realized something. No matter what I do, someone's always in my face about something.

"All right." Soriano slapped his hand to mine. "We'll be around—you need something . . ."

I saluted him, winking, only to be yoked up by my collar.

"What are you doin', son?" Carlisle asked. "Mouthing off to cops—drunk."

"Oh!" I laughed. "Like you—fuck you. What do you care? And calling me 'son'? That's a stretch." It was hilarious.

"Believe it or not, I do care."

"You have no idea." I poked his chest. "You left it all—you left it all—and it fell on me. I held it all together while you were—where the fuck were you?" I widened my arms. "I know you were there—at the bar, but fuck!" I refused to cry, suddenly overcome with emotion. "Fuck that!"

"I'm sorry. I'm on the wagon—"

"Fuck you!" I backed away. "Leave me alone."

"Why were you looking for me?" he whispered.

"To tell you to go fuck yourself—" I nearly stumbled, but a mailbox stopped me from hitting the ground. "Being like seven—tripping over empties on the way to the bathroom. Watching you beat on Mom…Playing with bottle caps 'cause I had no fucking toys…The fucking house stinking like booze—like you."

"I can't change the past—"

"You're not in my future either!"

I didn't say another word, managing to walk two blocks; meanwhile, I felt him behind me, wishing he'd fucking leave me alone.

"Let's get a cab. I'll take you home."

The brightness from the Chinese spot made me squint. They'd left the neon sign on, and then I stared at Bella's apartment building. "I'm home—no worries." At this point, I just wanted him to leave me alone.

"You live on—"

"How do you know where I live?" I walked to the wall of buzzers, and hit Swan—3B. "I just don't have my keys…" I left my finger on the bell, hoping one of them would wake up, or that Jasper was there. All I wanted to do was hide out in the hall, wait for Carlisle to leave, and then I'd go home. It made sense—in the drunken abyss of my mind.

"You live here?" he asked.

"I do—"

"_Hello?"_ It sounded like Alice.

"Honey, I'm home," I laughed.

"_Um…who is this?"_ she asked.

"Edward, you don't live here." Carlisle pulled me away from the door.

"_Edward?"_ There was a girly giggle. _"Come on up."_ The welcoming buzz was music to my ears.

"See?" I said, entering the hall. "You can go now."

Seeing as getting up three flights was going to be a hardship, I made my way to the elevator. It was grounded in the lobby and was fast to take me up to the third floor.

Stumbling in their hall, I walked along, leaning on the wall, avoiding people's doors.

"What are you doing here?" Jasper was peeking out of their apartment.

"What are _you_ doing here?" I laughed. He was in sweats, PJs, like they were having a quiet evening at home. "I'm sorry. I don't know—" I belched under my breath, "why I came up. I'll just go." I pointed.

"Are you drunk?" Jasper was smiling. "What's up?"

I shrugged, not saying anything.

That's when Alice popped out. "Hey!"

"Ha-ha…" She's always so fun, I thought. "How are you?"

"Good." She nodded. "Come in." She pulled Jasper back, and I strolled into their living room.

Candles were lit, the light dim, and some music played…

"We were just…" Jasper trailed off, staring at me.

I went over to the couch and threw myself down. "Just let me sober up—I'll go."

"Here." Alice placed a blanket over my lap. "Just crash—leave in the morning. It's cool. Do you want some water?" She pushed my hair back, and her touch…it felt nice.

"Hmmm." I smiled at her.

"Okay." Jasper put his hands up. "What's up with you?"

I looked to him. "Nothing…drunk."

"Yeah, but why? This isn't like you." He looked concerned.

"You don't know me. Nobody does."

"Shut up with that shit," Jazz laughed. "I _know_ you."

I had nothing to say. "Just let me…" I did feel tired suddenly, sitting down in this warm place.

"You need some water…" Alice left, going into the kitchen.

I watched her go. "You guys a-are a thing now, right?"

He nodded. "We're…something." He had his hands on his hips, just judging me and standing there.

"Where's Bella?" I asked.

"Asleep," he said, looking behind himself to the hall. "Maybe not. You probably woke up the building ringing the bell."

I didn't say anything. My eyes fighting to stay open.

"Drink this." Alice was back, handing me a bottle of water. "Have some crackers." She put a plate of Saltines on the coffee table. "Here's some Advil. Try to take it before you pass out."

"You know your way around a hangover," Jasper laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her into his side.

They had a moment. She smiled, and then they said goodnight—went into her room.

I sat there . . . I did what Alice said, thinking it was nice that she cared. I ate the crackers, drank the water, and then wiped the crumbs from my chest. They landed on the floor, and I stared at them—wondering how Bella might feel about that.

"Bella," I whispered. Fuck. Even her name was pretty.

After the water was done, I shot back the medicine dry—which was an odd turn of events—and then I had to piss. Urinating, having perfect aim into the toilet was extremely difficult, and I didn't even close the door—didn't care. There were noises coming from Alice's room, but Bella's door remained closed.

I flushed the toilet, wet my hands, and then stared at the mouthwash.

With minty fresh breath, I stood outside Bella's door.

Knocked lightly twice.

With no answer, I tried the knob. It wasn't locked, and so I entered the darkened bedroom.

Lavender filled my nose, which made me smile. Even her room smells like her. It was dark, but I could see her—her bed because of the moon glow filtering in from her window.

"Bella…" I stood over her, watching her sleep. She was snuggled in her blankets, lying on her side. "Bella." I moved her hair out of her face.

"Edward," she whispered, placing her hand on mine.

"Hi." My stomach was nervous, despite the liquid courage.

"Hmmm, Edward." She grinned and rolled over, and I realized she was still asleep.

"Um…" I thought, fuck it, and crawled into bed with her. I wanted her to wake up. "Bella." Placing my hand on her hip, I skimmed my nose along her cheek—just inhaling her.

"Ahhhh!" She jumped, her fist knocking me in the eye.

"Fuck!" I held my face, backing up and falling out of her bed.

"Edward?" She was out of breath. "What—uh—" She turned her lamp on.

I bristled at the light, holding my hand over my eyes. "It's me."

"What are you doing here?" She was gorgeous, her hair a bit of a mess.

"You're so pretty," I said, getting on my knees, elbows leaning on the mattress. "I just wanted to say hi."

"Hi." She grinned.

"I'm drunk."

She nodded. "Why?"

I shook my head. "Everyone I ever knew—they'd drink if—if the day was too much, were stressed. I thought . . . I don't know. I think . . . I don't know." My shoulders slumped, wishing I was home. "I should go."

"Wait." She scrambled to reach me, stop me. "Don't go."

"Okay," I agreed. "I don't know if I really wanted to leave anyway."

She giggled. "Take off your shoes." She went back to the top of the bed, leaned against her pillows.

I did as she asked, having minor difficulty. My laces were fucked, and I couldn't make heads or tails of them, so I kicked off my boots, shrugged out of my jacket, and then I dove into the bed, quick to get comfortable at her side.

"I didn't hear from you. I thought—"

"Do you like Black? Ja-Jacob Black?" I asked.

"Who?" She furrowed her brow.

"Not important." I turned to my side, resting my cheek on my hands.

When she mirrored my movements, I was able to see her cleavage peeking out from her tank top.

I wanted to place my finger between that crease . . .

"Are you staring at my breasts?" she asked.

"Yeah…" I looked to her face, and her fucking eyes . . . those eyes.

Even drunk, I couldn't look into them, but that was when I realized something. I really had no idea why I could never hold her gaze. Maybe I was scared—scared to let her in, scared she might be another person to get to know me, judge me, and discard of me.

And she didn't know me.

And I didn't know her, but there was something . . . And I didn't know if I wanted her to know me.

With one look alone…when she looks at me, my stomach drops, and I have to look away.

It's almost as if she can see me, even though she might be blinded by the misperception _of_ me.

When I put on my uniform, I am a police officer, someone people respect, a hero—like how Bella sees me.

When I'm in regular clothes . . .

I'm the kid from the Lower East Side, the one whose father beat his mother—_the drunk father_—the kid with the sister who got knocked up so young.

No matter where I went, everyone knew my story, even if I didn't say a word.

Kids used to tease me when I wore Dad's old shirts, the ones he left behind . . .

I wasn't good enough for her . . . she didn't know my secrets—what I really was.

And as soon as she learned I wasn't the hero she thinks I am . . .

"I'm sorry…they're just right there." My gaze fell to her chest. They were safe to stare at unless she clocked me one again.

Bella pulled the blanket up to her chin.

"Sorry." I rolled onto my back to study the ceiling. "You never gave me your phone number…"

"I know," she whispered. "That morning . . . I was going to be late for class, and I _can't_ be late. You don't understand—"

"It's cool," I said.

"Did you _want_ my number?"

I nodded. "It would have been nice to have. We could have texted or whatever." I smiled. "I'm much more charming via text."

"You don't give yourself enough credit." I felt her move closer to me.

I turned to palm her cheek, my eyes zeroing in on her lips.

Without permission, I kissed her. When she didn't pull away, I deepened it—wanting to taste and explore her mouth. Bella held my shoulders, letting out a slight moan, and I brought her down—hovering over her fast.

"Edward—" She spoke into my mouth, and then I trailed my lips down to her neck, my hand snaking under her shirt. Her stomach was so soft and trembled under my touch.

"Fuck…you're so sexy." I went under the blanket to kiss along her stomach, my tongue tracing her belly button, a groan escaping me, my hand pushing her pants from her hips, sneaking kisses along her waistline.

Bella let out a squeak. "Edward." She stopped me, holding my face.

"What?" I came out from under the blanket to stare at her chin. "You don't want to—" I didn't know how to accurately finish that sentence.

My dick was hard as fuck, and I needed this—needed to feel close to someone—I needed to be buried inside of her. She had no fucking clue. Even if she didn't want to have sex, going down on her would appease me . . . to pleasure her, to show my worth.

"Um..." She swallowed, staring at her ceiling, toying with that bracelet. It was like she shut down; meanwhile, she was totally going with the flow a second ago. And the first night we chilled, she'd called me over for a booty-call, so I didn't understand this. Quite frankly, it threw me for a loop, and I became a little angry. She was a fucking cocktease.

"I thought—I thought you wanted to fuck?" I was incredibly disappointed, too.

"I did . . . Well, I do . . . Not like this, though . . . Maybe we should talk?" Her words were slow, like she was thinking them out.

I sucked my teeth, sitting up and laughing at myself. "Right."

"What happened to you tonight?" She had anguish in her voice, one that made me not want to turn around.

"Nothing."

"I don't have to see your face to know you're lying."

"What the fuck do you know about me?" I stood up to stare at her. "You know nothing about me. You don't know me."

"I want to." She was crying.

"Why are you crying?" I was exasperated.

"Because . . . I can see you're hurting, and that—it's sad and it breaks my heart." She wiped her eyes.

I laughed. "Don't bullshit me." I pointed to myself. "You don't know me. You don't give a fuck."

"I do."

"You don't—even if you did, you shouldn't." I smiled. "I—I wanted your number—"

"Why did you want it?" she asked.

"I wanted to fuck." I shrugged. "If you don't want to…hey, I get it."

"You're drunk. You should go." She wouldn't look at me.

I snorted. "Drunk men tell no tales…" My smile masked the fact that I felt like crying. "But I'm glad you finally came to your senses. I'm no hero—"

"No!" she shouted. "I want you to go because . . . you'll only hate yourself even more in the morning, when you remember the things you've said."

I nodded. "Have a nice life. Be careful . . . you know?" I went toward the door.

Bella covered her face to sob into her hands.

"Hey…" I said, 'cause I couldn't leave with her crying like that. The fact that she was crying over a stranger was pretty comical. Who the fuck was I? Why did she care? Those were things I wanted to know.

"Just go." She turned onto her side, shutting the light before pulling the blanket over her head.

"Good luck with school." I didn't want to go anywhere. That was the God's honest truth. I wanted to crawl back into bed with her, hold her, pass the fuck out, and wake up with her.

Bella didn't reply, but she was still crying, softly whimpering.

Taking tentative steps, I went over to her side of the bed. As I knelt down, I pulled the blanket back. "Why?"

She sniffled. "You're not a stranger."

I nodded.

"You-you saved me, and—I don't care what my therapist says. I like you a lot, when I've never liked any boy or man before."

My mouth pulled into a lopsided grin, thinking that sweet. "You should listen to your doctor—they know what they're talking about. I saved you, I guess, but . . . I was only doing my job."

"I know." She sucked in a shaky breath, scooting away. "This is my side, but you can have it."

I chuckled, standing up and going over to the other side. "That's your side, that's your side." I crawled into _my_ side—where I slept the other night.

She placed her head on my chest, getting comfortable. "Sorry I cried."

"It's okay." I kissed her hair.

"I feel safe with you, but..." She grabbed my off-duty pistol from my waist, leaning over to place it on the nightstand. For a brief moment, her tits were in my face, and I placed my hand on her hip . . . thinking this was it, hoping she'd attack-fuck me or something.

She stared at me. "You're not a stranger."

"Right," I sighed, as she settled down in my arms again.

_**Thank you for reading.**_

_**Please leave me your thoughts.**_


	8. The Buddy System

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA. **

"**Offbeat"**

**Chapter Eight: The Buddy System**

I never put too much faith in love. It's okay in chick flicks and greeting cards. But you don't really see anything around here to convince you that there's truly anything to it.

I've said it one time, "I love you," to my senior prom date. She was looking at me, and she had already said it, and the look in her eyes . . . Well, I knew that if I didn't say it back, I wasn't going to get laid and she was going to leave me at the Marriott—where the senior prom was being held.

Lucy and I were friends all through high school, and then she kissed me. I asked her to be my date, and I was hoping to get laid—lose my virginity.

It happened . . . after I told her I loved her.

After graduation, I never saw her again. She'd call my house looking for me, and she even showed up one time.

I was the asshole. I'd gotten what I wanted—to fumble around awkwardly with a rubber in the back of my grandfather's Benz. He let me use it for prom night.

So, I lied—all for two minutes of pleasure, to have sex. I never thought twice about it, nor did I truly give a fuck.

Mostly? I think love . . . it's a bunch of sentimental crap women made up to stop men from following their instincts—chasing tail every single minute of the day.

"Look at that chick." Black hit my arm and pointed to the Hispanic girl on the corner. "If Janet Jackson and Jennifer Lopez had a love child . . . that'd be her."

I sighed, staring straight ahead. We were parked under the overpass, and this dude had been standing around for ten minutes now. I was waiting for someone to approach him, for him to make a sale.

"Whitlock says your girlfriend and his girlfriend are cousins?"

"I don't have a girlfriend," I said. "Bella's—she's just my friend."

"You think they gotta friend for me? Hale hooked me up with this Tanya chick. Man, she was a handful—like aggressive and shit." He rubbed his chest. "I almost felt violated."

I snorted out a laugh. "Fucking Tanya . . ."

"I think she cut my dick—her braces or something."

"Ha!" I pointed to nothing, glad I didn't let her suck me off. "Isn't she a little old for you?"

"I'm twenty-one." He shrugged. "How old is she? Wait, you know her?"

"No, I don't." My cell went off with a text. It was Kate, wondering if I was working. After telling her I was, I looked up to see two teens approaching that dude. "Come on, come on . . ."

"Excuse me, officer—" Some guy on a bike was in my window, and I couldn't see around him.

"Shit…"

"Which way is the FDR Drive?" he asked.

When I looked through the windshield, that dude was running away. They didn't go for it—dispersing after they'd made us.

"Officers…"

"Look," Black started, "go to the corner, make a left, go down three avenues, and you'll hit it."

"Thanks." Bike guy rode away.

"They were gonna go for it!" I gestured to the overpass.

"God forbid we should _prevent_ a crime." Black chuckled.

I just shook my head at him, having nothing to say.

"That Bella chick…"

"What about her?" I asked, starting the car. "Let's go chill on 96th." That's where most of the action is anyway.

"I saw her—when she came to bring you dinner."

I smiled. "She's nice—looks out for me."

Bella thinks I eat too much takeout, says that if I don't watch it, I'll have a gut soon. But, despite sitting in the RMP a lot, I work out daily, and I chase fuckers all the time. Twice this week, when she'd cook dinner, she'd text me, I'd tell her where I was, and she'd show up with a Tupperware—filled with cheesy, vegetarian goodness. She's a fantastic cook.

"She's the one I gave my number to." He stared out the window.

I already knew that, and I didn't say anything, content to drive.

"She's beautiful—_does_ seem like a nice girl, and, well . . . Are you guys really just—only friends? 'Cause…now that I noticed her, it's like I see her all the time. I'd like to ask her out. Would that be okay with you?" he asked, gulping, "Sir?"

I laughed. "What the fuck? Calling me 'sir'." I pulled up to the curb behind 78 Alpha. Jasper and Emmett were in the bodega.

"Um…would it be okay?"

I thought about that, and my initial reaction was fuck no. I didn't want Black with her. But what I said was true. We were only friends—just friends. It'll be two weeks tomorrow that I stumbled into her bedroom drunk. A whole two weeks have gone by.

Since then, we do text each other, she does show up with food, and I've shown up at her door past midnight—restless, crawling into bed with her—three more times. I've been on my best behavior, and she called me that—said that besides Alice, I was her best friend. She talks to me about everything . . .

I'm still attracted to her, but . . .

We're just friends, and she hasn't mentioned anything about dates, nor has she tried to kiss me again.

She was right, though.

The next morning, I woke up mortified—only remembering half of what I'd said to her, and . . . I was disrespectful, forced myself on her, kissed her when she didn't want me to. And after the shit she'd gone through with being kidnapped . . . It's been two months since then, but still.

If I was feeling low while I was drowning my sorrows, I was feeling even lower the next morning. I couldn't even look at her, not her face, nothing. But then she got upset that I couldn't let it go, said I was brooding and I needed to work on that.

She excused my behavior; however, she didn't understand.

Getting heated, I might mouth off to my mother. While my intentions are always good when I do that, I have never, would never, disrespect a female. I may have had casual, sexual relationships in the past, but those chicks were always down for the ride.

I was more upset than Bella was.

Yet, Bella made me bacon and eggs—even though she doesn't eat meat. She served me coffee. She fed me more headache medicine, and then she said I could go lay back down if I wanted to. It was nice . . . being taken care of like that.

I didn't take advantage or go back to her bed, as I honestly didn't have a hangover. For whatever reason, I wasn't feeling lousy, and I made sure to exchange phone numbers with her before I left.

"Cullen?" Black asked.

I shook my head. "What?"

"Can I ask Bella out?"

"No," I said.

"But if you're not dating her—"

"She's my friend, which means I don't want her with you. Respect that. Okay? You'll fuck her and never call." In my gut, I didn't think he'd get that far with her, even if he tried, but I didn't truly know.

"Fine," he said, unbuckling his seat belt. "You want a coffee?"

"A soda—get me a Sprite." I reached for a dollar bill.

"I got it." He left the car, and I turned my head—staring at my radio, hoping it'd go off, wishing dispatch would ping us.

We've been pretty busy during our shift—answering five calls in three hours. Then we ate some food, and we didn't get to finish. There was a fire, were I gave a Lincoln Town Car a ticket for blocking the fire hydrant.

For the past hour, it's been quiet—the darkened streets practically empty, and I wanted to keep busy, which would make the time go by faster.

My phone started ringing, and I picked it up right away. It was Kate. "What's up?"

"_You're off tomorrow, right?"_ she asked.

"Yeah . . ." I said it slow, wondering why she wanted to know.

"_Are you going to take the girls? Maddy and Larissa have been talking my ear off about the zoo…"_ She trailed off.

I opened my mouth to speak.

_"You were supposed to take them last weekend."_ That was another thing I felt horrible about.

"They offered me overtime last minute. I pulled a double last Sunday . . . I spoke to Larissa. She understood," I explained. "I'll take them Sunday before I go to work—"

"_But you work at three." _

I widened my eyes, wondering what she didn't understand. "We get there for opening, we spend a few hours..." And I'd still have tomorrow to do with what I wanted if I jam packed Sunday. "The zoo isn't that big, and we've gone how many times? I can take them Sunday and have them home by two—"

"_I'm just saying,"_ she sighed. _"You're off tomorrow—it's Saturday. You can take them to the zoo, feed them dinner, and then maybe watch a movie? Please, Edward?" _

"What? What's Mom doing?" I asked.

"_Nothing. She'll be here. She just—she watches the girls enough, and I have a date,"_ she whispered. _"And it'd be awesome if you made a day out of it...get them out of the house."_

"A date? What about Miguel? You guys really done?"

"_We were finished the minute he stuck his cock in—"_

"All right," I laughed. "I get it. I'll be down there at like eleven. We gotta take the train."

"_You can borrow my car. I don't need it. I'll leave the keys for you." _

"Cool." I nodded. "You keeping your nose clean?"

"_Honestly . . . Of course. It was like…a one time thing." _

"Uh-huh."

"_Dad called Mom—"_

"Why?" I asked.

"_I don't know. Look, lemme go. I'm just walking in now. Tomorrow, I won't be here—I picked up a lunch shift to have the night off. Make sure Maddy keeps her coat on. She likes to take it off, and she was just sick—"_

"Okay," I said as Black entered the RMP. "I'll talk to you later." I ended the call, grabbing my soda from him.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"None of your business," I laughed.

"Sorry." He buckled himself in.

Sadly, we were never pinged or called to the next big bust, nor did we witness any crimes. The last hour of our watch dragged and dragged, and I almost fought Emmett for the bum they picked up—who was pissing on the subway steps—just so I could fill the time with paperwork.

Technically, Black and I saw him first, but . . . since I'm trying not to forget all the things Jasper taught me, I asked the dude to put his dick away. We were standing near the subway, tired of the car, but then 78 Alpha rolled up—had to follow us.

The homeless guy didn't give a fuck, said he had to piss, and then he waved his cock at some woman. That old lady clocked him one with her purse, almost knocked him down the stairs. But he fell into McCarty instead.

Of course, I found that hilarious, and then laughed some more when he got piss on Emmett's boot.

At ten after eleven, I was leaving the station when Bella sent me a text. In lieu of answering her, I called.

"_Hello?"_ She sounded happy.

It made me smile. "Hey."

We were both quiet as I walked to the bus stop. _"So…"_ she said.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" I asked, slightly wincing.

"_Laundry. I always do laundry on Saturdays, always at noon." _

I grinned, having gotten to know her a lot more. "Is it one of those things you have to—_absolutely have to_ do?" She's a bit obsessive when it comes to scheduling. If she says she has to do laundry on Saturday at noon, she's gotta do it.

"_Why…?"_ The poor girl sounded wary now.

"I have to babysit. Well—" I checked the bus schedule, seeing that another one would be here in five minutes. "I promised my nieces I'd take them to the zoo. Would you like to come? They're very energetic, cute, funny . . . you could help me with them, and then I'll help do your laundry."

It was a sound plan. If I drew out the day, we could be doing her laundry at one a.m., and then I could fall asleep in her bed—get some good sleep. Bella is crazy cuddly.

She gasped. _"Mr. Defensive with his steel walls wants me to meet his family?" _Then she started giggling_. _I must admit that she's getting much better at understanding and dishing out the sarcasm. She wasn't as seasoned when we'd first met.

"Ha-ha," I said. "I'm just—"

"_Don't be weird about it. We're weird enough,"_ she said, and that was why we got along so well. She was honest, and I enjoyed it. Also, as we've gotten to know each other, we've gotten comfortable and can joke around.

"It's no big deal . . ."

"_Will they mind if I join you guys?"_ she asked.

I shrugged. "Why not? They'll like whoever I like. You're my friend—"

"_Your friend,"_ she repeated. _"Right . . . um, what time?"_

"I have to get them at eleven. We'll say 11:45? I'll be driving."

"_Okay,"_ she agreed.

I fist pumped the air. "Cool."

My nieces can be a handful. And I always hate it—when I'm out with them, I'm paranoid so I end up making sure the men's bathroom is empty before I take them inside with me. I go in with them. Or, I see moms with their daughters. I smile and use my charm, and ask them to keep an eye on Larissa and Maddy.

They're five and nine, and they love bathrooms for some reason. Wherever we go, they have to check out the rest rooms, talk about the soap and shit when they leave. Those poor kids don't get out much either.

"11:45," I confirmed.

"_I'll see ya."_ She sounded like she wanted to get off the phone.

"What are you doing?" I asked, peering down the street. At the moment, she was only a mere three blocks away.

"_Reading. You know…from nine to bedtime—whenever I fall asleep—I read." _

I nodded since I did know that. "What are you reading?"

She sighed, and I could imagine her puffing her cheeks. _"I have a sociology assignment due at the end of the month. I'm just reading up on things." _She paused. _"I think Jasper just came in."_

I chuckled. "What's he living there now?" As far as I know, he spends almost every night there.

"_He used my razor to shave his face, and—"_

"You had a heart attack?" I laughed. "Some of the things you get upset over, man." I shook my head.

"_That's disgusting. Plus, it was mine. I have the right to be upset." _

"That you do, baby." I laughed some more.

"_Baby?"_ she giggled.

I rolled my eyes at the night sky. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"_Goodnight . . . baby."_ She ended the call before I could tease her about something.

**/=/=/=/=/**

The next morning, I rolled over and woke up to Emmett standing over me. He had a cup of coffee in his hands, and he handed it over fast.

"What's up?" My eyes were squinted because I never bought curtains. Those blinds don't shield the sun at all, and the bed sheet I had tacked up fell down.

That ghetto shit isn't a poor thing, especially since I'm not broke. It's a I-don't-give-a-fuck thing.

"Nothing. You'll sleep the day away—"

I hopped out of bed, and then looked at the clock. "Shit." I held my chest, seeing it was only a little after eight. "I thought it was like noon or something." I put my coffee down on the nightstand and looked around for a t-shirt. "Hale here?"

"Yeah…I thought maybe you wanted to go for a run along the river, and then hit the gym? After, I have some errands—"

"Dude..." I dug my wallet out of my jeans from last night, guessing he would stop at the dry cleaners. Every Friday before work, I drop off four of my uniforms, and they're always ready to go the next day—so crisp and clean. "If you go to the Korean, can you pick up my uniforms?" I held out some cash.

He laughed, taking it from me. "Yeah, I gotta get ours, too . . . Come with me."

I gave him my ticket as well. "Not today." I sipped from the cup. "I'm taking Maddy and Larissa to the Bronx Zoo."

"Oh." He nodded. "We just—we don't spend any time together anymore." He sat on my bed. "What's good with you?"

I pursed my lips as I stared at him. He usually doesn't give a fuck, even if we only see each other in passing or at work for weeks. "Jasper's gonna let me stay at his place until I find another apartment." I didn't know when they wanted me out exactly, but I guessed it was before the baby came—maybe a month before, so they could fix up the room. I came to terms with it—like I always cope with shit—and I planned to actually have my own place, not stay with Jasper.

"Oh, no—"

"Don't bullshit me." I grabbed a shirt and sniffed it—and since there were no stains, it smelled decent, and wasn't wrinkled, I threw it onto my bed for later use.

"Seriously. There's no rush." He smiled up at me. "Rosie and I…we decided to get married."

"What?" I shouted.

He nodded. "We're doing it. My ma says it's gotta be at our church…it'll be small, and I don't even have a ring yet, but…yeah."

"Are you sure?" I whispered. "Just because she's pregnant—"

"I'm twenty-six." He placed his hand on his chest. "After all those years overseas, being in the Marines, and now working the beat? It's time to settle down. You know? I feel like I've been going non-stop since high school."

I nodded along, listening.

"Plus, it's what you do." I think he told himself. "You fall in love, you get married, and you have kids. It's what McCartys do anyway," he laughed. "Well, maybe not in that order. For us, first comes fucking, we get caught out there, and then . . ." He continued to laugh, but I didn't see the humor.

"You love her?" I asked. "Like—for real?"

His eyes widened. "Yes." He was chuckling again. "I wouldn't have asked her if I didn't. The object of the game is to settle down with someone you can stand…being in love is an added bonus."

"Right." I shrugged. "Fuck if I know." I wouldn't know a healthy relationship or love—_if_ it exists—if it bit me on my ass.

"Hey." Hale poked her head into my room. She wore one of Emmett's t-shirts—it must have been his 'cause it reached her knees, and her legs looked really long.

Not that I was checking her out. They were just…right there.

He snapped his fingers at her. "Go put pants on."

I looked away, knowing he was being paranoid and didn't see me actually looking, but feeling awkward anyway.

"I'm wearing shorts," she told him. "Ed, there's bagels in the kitchen."

"Thank you," I said.

When she left, I looked back to Emmett. "I'll be out by the end of next week. I'll stay with Jasper."

He nodded. "Will you be my best man?"

"Me?" I pointed to myself. "What about all your brothers and cousins—"

He laughed. "I can't pick one of them. They'll fight tooth and nail, then if I pick one, the rest will hate me. It's best I go with a buddy . . . Just—the wedding may be small, but I want a party at a strip joint, or a bar...just get a stripper. My brothers and my cousins will crucify you if you don't."

"You got it—sure." I patted his back.

"You'll do it?"

"I accept." I'd never been chosen for anything like this before.

After he left my bedroom, I got back in bed for another half-hour, and then I went to shower.

I lucked out. Since Emmett planned on going to the gym, he said he'd give me a lift to my mom's house, although it was out of his way. Before we left, I grabbed a bagel, and then ate it in his Ford F150. And I had no idea why he needed a pick-up in motherfucking Manhattan. He better trade it in for a minivan or some shit. I know his Rosie doesn't have a car. Before him, she used to bum rides like me.

Mom knew I'd be there at eleven, and the girls already had their coats on when I arrived.

"Eager much?" I asked my mother.

She handed me a small knapsack. "Have fun."

"What's this?" I asked, taking the Dora the Explorer bag.

"Snacks, juice boxes—you'll waste money if you get it at the zoo," she explained.

"Right." I grabbed the car keys from the kitchen counter.

"Do you need money? I know cops don't make—"

"I'm fine." Yeah, I got defensive, especially since her pockets are emptier than mine. I'm doing fine financially.

"You should have gone to law school. But I have to say, I'm glad you won't be a starving musician—that you got those silly dreams out of your head. It's great to have dreams, but we all have to grow up. Right?"

"Why'd Dad call you?" I asked.

"He was concerned," she said. "I told him you were upset with me and needed to blow off some steam." That was her roundabout way of seeing if I was still angry with her. It's true. I haven't been back here since—only called to speak to Larissa last week.

"Funny he should care now—when I'm old enough to care for myself." I shook my head.

"Yeah, well," she sighed.

"And I wasn't mad at you . . ." I didn't know if I was.

It's shitty—that she's always making poor choices when it comes to men. I might even be beating a dead horse when it comes to warning her, too, which is exhausting. Plus. Kate seemed to be out of control, and Mom was basically condoning her behavior.

My sister goes from being this mom—this cookie-making, PTA member, dinner always on the table mom—and then . . . I don't know. It's not that I think that was a role she should have kept. When they divorced, she obviously had to get a job, but going out every night? The drinking, the drugs, and now she's dating?

I know both Mom and Kate are just blasé, and they don't take things as seriously as I do. Maybe I was the one who had the problem, the only one who_ saw_ a problem. But I won't apologize for being concerned, loving and caring about their well-being.

"Are we ready yet?" Larissa had an attitude.

"Yes," I said, turning for the door.

"Edward." Mom pointed to her cheek.

I laughed, giving her a smooch before I ushered Thing One and Thing Two down to the elevator. They danced and ran, very excited to be out of the house. When we left the building, they took off again.

"Slow down!" I shouted, not wanting to chase someone on my day off.

"I looked online at school," Larissa said, walking backward. "The Mammal Show starts at noon."

"Uh . . . I have to pick up a friend first."

"Who?" Maddy asked, coming back over to me to take my hand.

"Um, my friend Bella." We approached the car, and I hit the remote. My sister bought this car almost ten years ago. It's a Honda Accord. Although there are scratches galore, from parking and other cars, it's in really good shape and has low mileage.

Larissa was fast to buckle herself in, and I put Maddy in her booster seat.

"That's a girl's name." Maddy poked my nose.

"She is a girl," I said, backing up and closing the door.

"You have a girlfriend?" Larissa asked.

"No." I got in and started the car.

"I don't wanna you to have a girlfriend," Maddy mumbled.

"Why's that?" I laughed and saw her shrug in the rearview.

"Because...you won't have time for us anymore. You don't have time for us now." Larissa sounded sad.

I frowned, my shoulders dropping. "I work a lot. You know? I have to make money..."

"You protect people." Maddy nodded.

"That's right," I agreed. "People need me." I wasn't sure what to say. "But you guys are more important. No matter what, if _you_ need me...you know I'm always here, always around. Plus," I laughed, "where would I be without you two?" It was true. The both of them owned my heart in a way, although I don't get to see them that often.

"You'd be really sad," Maddy giggled.

"And lonely," Larissa added.

"Exactly."

Unfortunately . . . even if they brighten my days, I was still both those things.

Luckily, they stopped with the questions as I drove. There was little traffic on the FDR Drive, and I got to Bella's with ten minutes to spare. It was awesome. I was not only on time but early.

"Uncle Eddie?" Maddy asked, kicking the back of my chair.

I reached and stopped her foot with my hand. "Yeah?"

"I have to do pee-pee."

I hung my head. "We just left the house—"

"I didn't have to go then." And she started to cry.

"Don't—don't cry," I said, shutting down the car.

"She's a baby—all she does is cry," Larissa spat.

"Shuddup."

"Make me."

"Both of you…" I trailed off, leaving the car. "Come on." I took Maddy out. "You too," I told her sister.

Larissa picked her wedgie as she left the car. "Where are we going?"

Maddy held her crotch and did the pee-pee dance. "I really gots'ta go."

I sighed, just picking Maddy up and carrying her. "We'll see if my friend lets us use her bathroom."

Maddy rested her head on my shoulder. "But hurry 'cause it's'a gonna come out."

I grinned, thinking she was adorable, although she sounded like an Italian immigrant for some reason. Maddy has the same hair color as me, could easily pass as my daughter. "Come on." I grasped Larissa's hand. Some dude, seeing me go in that direction, held the door open for us. I didn't need to ring the bell, and then we went up to Bella's apartment.

Alice answered the door, and the squeal she let out . . . "Oh my God…they're darling!"

"Yeah…Can we use your bathroom?" I asked, but Larissa was already in their living room—just walked right in. "This ones gots'ta go." I poked Maddy's side, making her giggle.

"Of course." Alice opened the door wider.

"This is my friend Alice," I said. "And this one I'm holding is Maddy, and that's Larissa."

"Uncle Eddie," Maddy whined. "The pee-pee's'a gonna come out." She just turned five, or maybe she's impersonating someone she knows. I had no idea, but it was cute.

"I'll take her." Alice smiled.

When I set Maddy down, she grabbed Alice's hand and went down the hall.

"This place is nice." Larissa sat on the couch like she owned the place. "Are they rich?"

"No, they live rent-free. They're students," I said. "Don't get comfortable." I wondered where Bella was. "When your sister's done, you should go."

"I don't have to," she said, fluffing a couch pillow.

"Try." I massaged my forehead, peeking down to Bella's bedroom. As if I willed her to, she opened the door and came walking toward me. She smiled—her hair was down, her jeans were tight, and so was the red sweater she wore. The black boots on her feet nearly reached her knees. My buddy looked hot . . . for the zoo.

"Hey," I said.

"Hi." She stopped in front of me, clasping her hands together.

"Hello." Larissa put her hand out, getting between us. "I'm Larissa, and you must be Bella." She said her name all breathy and wistful as she turned back to smile at me.

"I am." Bella grinned, shaking her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." My character of a niece nodded. "Nice joint ya gots hea." Now this one sounded like a wise guy.

"Thank you . . . we like it," Bella laughed.

"You're really pretty." Larissa stared up at her. "I hope I have boobies like yours when I grow up."

I palmed my face and tried not to laugh. There was no need to scold her. Larissa knows better. She's just . . . I don't know.

"Thank you." Bella nodded. "You're very beautiful as well. I'm sure…in a few years—"

"Don't bother." I chuckled, because Larissa was already back on the couch, grabbing for a magazine. "Did you want lunch first or…?"

Bella rubbed her stomach, and my eyes followed her hand. "I had a late breakfast."

"Oh…" I nodded, peering down the hall.

Maddy skipped out of the bathroom, Alice hot on her heels.

"Are we ready to go . . .? Did you want to come?" I asked Alice.

"Oh…" She gave Bella some look.

Bella had wide eyes and slightly shook her head, which wasn't very subtle at all. I didn't know what the big deal was. Alice could join us. "Don't you have plans with Jasper?" she asked.

"Yeah," Alice said. "I have things to do around here, too."

"Please come'a with us." Maddy grabbed her hand.

Alice knelt down to her, which was kind of sweet. "How 'bout . . . some day soon you can come back? We'll have ice cream?"

Maddy shrugged and joined her sister on the couch.

"Thanks for being so nice," I patted Alice's shoulder. She went above and beyond being polite and tolerating our presence.

"I love kids," she said. "I'll see you guys later."

"Ready?" I raised a brow, turning to Bella.

She grabbed her coat off the hook, and I helped her into it. Bella's hair smelled amazing, like floral shampoo—the girl was like a walking bouquet of flowers.

"Did you sniff me?" she giggled.

"Uncle's Eddie's weird like that." Larissa left the couch.

I pulled Bella's hair out from her collar. "Your hair smells nice."

"Thanks." She looked down.

I sighed, opening the door, and then my girls trailed out of the apartment.

**Thanks for reading.**

**Please leave me your thoughts.**


	9. The Zoo

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA. **

"**Offbeat"**

**Chapter Nine: The Zoo**

Although it was the middle of April, it seemed like spring was light years away. As we walked along, enjoying the sights of many animals in their cages—exhibits—it was bitterly cold.

Maddy—just like my sister warned—did try to lose her jacket. Then she whined, telling me how hot she was. I told her to stop running around like some maniac. The animals weren't going anywhere. If she slowed the hell down, she wouldn't be all sweaty.

It may seem girly, but I was very happy while we strolled through the Butterfly Garden. There were butterflies and other backyard bugs everywhere. But it wasn't about the insects. Quite frankly, it was just the atmosphere—it had a very relaxing feel. The greenhouse, which is in the conservatory, was filled with colors and flowers. Classical music played, creating a soothing backdrop.

My nieces found it boring, but Larissa was happy to read the different plaques to Maddy, while encouraging her to try to read them as well.

"Edward…" Bella fisted my sleeve.

When I looked at her, I was surprised to see her face red, her chest heaving as she panted for air.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She shook her head rapidly, tears trailing down her cheeks. "I—um—"

"Guys…" I called my nieces back over to us as I ducked to be attentive to Bella. "Talk to me."

She was so upset, she was scaring me, and I had no idea what was going on. "I just—I can't breathe—" She held her heart.

It was a little stuffy and humid in here. We were inside a greenhouse. "Okay…Come on!" I shouted to the girls. "We gotta go." They didn't question, happy to leave the Butterfly Garden, and I held Bella's hand as we trailed behind them.

Once out of there, I pulled Bella over to a bench. "Talk to me." I held her cheeks. "What happened in there?"

She covered her ears and cringed, burying her face in my chest. "I can still hear it." And she was shaking.

I massaged my forehead, trying to listen, wondering what the fuck was wrong with her, and that was when I realized, heard it . . .

"Come on, baby." I pulled her up and into my side, and we left the conservatory.

Larissa and Maddy were happy to skip around the small walkway, where we found another bench outside, in the cold again. "Have a snack." I tossed them the backpack-backpack.

_Only a real man can rock a Dora the Explorer bag for a whole afternoon and still look as good as I do. _

Bella huffed out breath after breath. "You're just as surprised as me," she sobbed, covering her face.

The music they were playing . . . the song that was just sounding from the loud speakers was Bach: _Toccata and Fugue in D minor_, which is what that fucker James had on repeat that afternoon in his apartment.

I forgot or didn't realize. To me, it was just music—something I'd played on occasion.

But then it just clicked . . . I remembered.

"I didn't know—hearing that, and then I couldn't breathe." She wiped her eyes.

I made her look at me. "I understand . . . but it's just a song. The song can't hurt you, neither can—" I didn't want to say his name. "James. He can't hurt you." If I didn't blurt out his name, it would give it that much power—by not being uttered.

"I know." She sniffled. "I'm sorry. I'm sure they—" She gestured to my nieces who were none the wiser, throwing popcorn at each other.

"Cut it out!" I shouted, and they stopped. "They're fine." I squeezed Bella's thigh. "They don't care about stupid bugs."

"I'm sorry." She sounded nasally.

"Don't be sorry." I kissed her cheek. "You're fine—like something's gonna happen to you while you're with me?" I snorted, yanking her into my side. "You're safe." And I had my off-duty pistol to prove it.

She giggled through her tears, placing her hand on my stomach. "I trust you."

"You do?" I asked.

"Yes, I do." She looked up at me through her lashes, her brown eyes still watery.

I licked my lips, staring at hers, feeling this pull…

"Are you gonna kiss now?" Larissa asked.

I shook my head, smiling. "You guys hungry? We should get dinner." I figured we could swing by a drive-thru before I dropped them off. Then, maybe as a thank you for helping me with them, Bella and I could go to a restaurant. Mom was right. With bringing drinks and snacks, I only paid for admission.

"I want pizza!" Maddy raised her hand.

"No, McDonald's!" Larissa raised her hand, too.

"What's with the hands?" I laughed, looking down to Bella. "We'll get them something and drop them off? There's this nice restaurant near my mom's—Puerto Rican food."

"Okay."

"I wanna go to Ray's!" Larissa whined. "I want platinos." She looked to Bella. "I'm half-Puerto Rican."

"Me too," Maddy said, leaning back on my knee.

Bella peeked up at me. "I could go for some platinos."

I nodded. "All right."

As we walked back to the car, Bella didn't let go of my hand. I still rocked that backpack-backpack, and I had Maddy hugging onto my side. She wanted to be carried, and Larissa held onto Bella and talked her ear off about school. Bella had relaxed again during the short walk, and I liked this—the four of us together. It felt like we were . . . like a family or something.

All of us were happy—well, semi-content—and after a day at the zoo, we were going to dinner . . .

"Everyone's buckled in?"

Bella grinned, fastening her seat belt. "Can I meet your sister?"

"Uh…" My nieces were one thing, but…Mom and Kate would blow Bella's presence out of the water. They'd think too much of it or something. I was sure that'd be the case. I'd never brought a girl home before. And we weren't even dating.

"It's okay," she whispered.

"My mom is really nice," Larissa said. "Her name's Kate. She's a waitress for movie stars."

"Can Nanna come eat with us, too?" Maddy mumbled.

"Um…" I stopped to pay for parking. It was ten-fucking-dollars, and we were only here for like four hours. I guess it wasn't too bad, considering.

"You can just take me home. To go downtown and come back uptown." She waved a hand.

"No—" I disagreed. "It's fine, but…if you have a problem taking the train…" I had to drop the car off along with the girls. "I wanna go to dinner, and then…we gotta do your laundry."

She shrugged. "I switched things around, so I can do it tomorrow."

"Call Nanna—have her meet us at the restaurant," Maddy said.

"How 'bout we order it to-go, and we'll eat it at Nanna's?" I looked in the rearview. "We'll just get a bunch of stuff."

"Cool," Larissa said.

"That sound cool?" I asked Bella, briefly looking over to her. "Be prepared for my mother to fawn all over you."

"Nanna's gonna think you're so pretty," Maddy giggled. "My Nanna is really pretty, too."

"I bet she is." Bella grinned and grabbed my hand again.

"She's gonna ask you loads of crap…" But I really didn't know. I had no idea how Mom was going to react to me bringing Bella over. I hoped for the best, that she'd mind her business.

/=/=/=/=/

We never went to Ray's. Since we were taking the food back to Mom's, and the cuchifritos is cheaper, we went there. The Lower East Side is predominately Hispanic, so those places are a dime a dozen, although they aren't all the same.

Bella had a hard time choosing what to eat. There were loads of selections, but mostly pork and chicken. She ended up getting a salad, some sweet and salty plantains, and something else that I couldn't pronounce, which was basically made up of plantains, too.

Knowing what the rest of us eat, I ordered rice, beans, and pork—_pernil._

Then we walked into my mother's building . . .

I was off-duty, but you just know I gave a shifty look to Lefty the neighborhood dealer—and his buddies—as they blocked the entrance. They didn't say a word, and Larissa said hello, the friendly kid she is. He said hi back, even calling me by my name to say what's up.

Down here, it's like I'm not a cop—this is where I grew up. Lefty was chillin' around here from when I was five. He and his boys aren't exactly a menace. They make sure no one fucks with the building, and I respect that, although I don't agree with his occupation.

Like always, the hallways and elevator smelled like piss, graffiti adorned the walls. My mom lives on the sixteenth floor, and Bella looked below to the street as we walked down the hall. It's fenced, there's no wall, and you can see outside, which makes the hall cold.

"You grew up here?" she asked.

Needless to say, I was embarrassed. She was originally from Scottsdale, having moved to Washington when she was thirteen. No doubt, she was used to suburbia, but I hoped this didn't faze her—having lived in Manhattan for three years already. Down here, it's nothing like the nice apartment building she lives in—it's nothing like where Emmett and I live either.

It's the projects.

"Yeah."

"It's—"

"Don't say nice." I grinned, not wanting her to lie. From what I know, she hasn't been dishonest with me yet. And I didn't want her to start, even if it would be a small half-truth.

"It has a certain charm…" She bit her lip. "Was that guy a drug dealer?"

I nodded, juggling the takeout boxes and digging for my keys.

"I got it." Larissa had her house key on a string around her neck, and seeing that . . .

I used to have a key-necklace just like it. And I wished I could win the lottery, get them a nice house, in a nice neighborhood where they could play outside, ride bikes . . . not be condemned to be another LES casualty.

"Home sweet home!" Larissa walked in, Maddy fast behind her, tearing off her coat.

"After you," I said, tilting my head.

Bella's steps were cautious as she entered. Mom knew we were coming—told me to take my time so she could clean up. But this place is always meticulous. Maybe we never had much, but my mother kept the place clean.

"Hi!" My mother met us as we entered the living room.

"Bella, this is my mother Esme…Mom, this is Bella." I closed and locked the door after us.

Bella was surprised—fuck, I was surprised when Mom hugged her, too. "Welcome." She took Bella's jacket. "The bathroom's through there. Please make yourself at home."

"Thank you," Bella replied.

"I got the food…"

I went into the kitchen and was fast to empty the bags. Mom had cups and plates out already and a bottle of Pepsi. "Come on, guys. Let's eat."

Larissa and Maddy ran in, sitting at the table.

"I'll serve them." Mom took over for me.

I backed away to stand near Bella. "Have a seat." I pulled a chair out for her. "Your food's all in here." Hers was in a separate bag.

"Thank you."

"Soda?" I poured her some anyway.

"Thanks," she giggled, and I didn't know what was funny. "I can…"

"Oh." I put the Pepsi down.

"Edward, sit and eat." Mom gestured to a chair, but since there were only four, I declined.

"You sit." After piling a bunch of shit on a plate, I hopped up—sat on the counter.

Mom had yet to serve herself or have a seat, still fixing dishes for my nieces. "You should sit here." She pushed the chair closer to Bella.

"Mom—" I had a mouthful.

My mother had wide eyes, staring between Bella and me.

I rolled mine, knowing she wouldn't back off until I occupied that damn chair.

Mom sighed, smiling and grabbing the step stool. That worked, and she was able to join us at the table. "Tell me about you." She looked to Bella, not wasting any time.

Bella wiped her mouth, staring down to her food. "I'm from—Washington and Arizona. I used to go back and forth a lot, and then…I stayed in Washington. I got a scholarship—"

"A scholarship." Mom looked to Larissa and Maddy. "You guys can get one, too, if you study hard . . . I bet Bella is really smart. Brains and beauty." She looked back to Bella.

I chuckled, sipping my soda. Mom was being cute right now, very genuine too. Then again, Bella could say she was an axe-murderer and Mom would eat it up.

"Thanks," Bella whispered. "I'm in my third year at Columbia."

"Edward went to Pace."

"He did?" Bella asked.

"I told you I graduated college." I swallowed down my food, using my tongue to get that piece of meat in one of my molars.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Mom said, handing me a napkin.

I shrugged, tucking back into my plate.

"He minored in Criminal Justice . . . In my opinion, unless you go to a music school, music as a major . . ." She shook her head, sighing. "I'm sure you picked something smart—something you can use."

I didn't give a fuck about the jibes toward me. I'd been hearing it for the past year, but I could tell it made Bella uncomfortable—she gave me her puppy-dog eyes, full of pity. "Stop it," I told her. "I'm fine."

"What's wrong?" Mom asked.

"I like that Uncle Eddie is a cop," Larissa said. I was shocked that Mom's tone—what she was implying—wasn't lost to her. My niece has been surprising me with all the shit she notices, things you wouldn't think a kid would. She's nine now, and that settled that.

"Me too!" Maddy exclaimed. "Mommy says she doesn't get tickets anymore because." She nodded.

I laughed, leaning over to wipe Maddy's mouth. She had sauce all on her face from the beans. "Eat your meat."

"Bella doesn't have to eat meat," Larissa said.

"Yeah!" Maddy banged her fork down.

"You wanted it—said you did." I pointed to her plate.

"Listen to your uncle. You can't fill up on plantains," Mom said. "Why don't you eat meat?" she asked Bella.

"I was never crazy about it . . . I'll have seafood on occasion."

"What's your major?" Mom was fast with another question.

"I'd like to be an English teacher, but I'm minoring in psych—I've taken many classes. I'm torn between being a therapist or an English teacher . . . I have some time before I choose a graduate program," Bella explained.

"That's fascinating." Mom placed her hand on hers, and then leaned into me. "She's way out of your league."

"Tell me something I don't know." I chuckled.

"What?" Bella smiled.

"Nothing." Since Maddy wasn't eating her pork and I'd finished mine, I scooped hers onto my plate.

"I eated my rice," she told me. "Nanna, can I watch TV?"

"You barely ate a thing." My mother started fussing, fucking with her plate or whatever, and I'd just dropped some rice down my shirt.

Bella laughed. "We can't take you anywhere." She picked it off my shirt, quick to use a napkin to mop up the sauce.

"I'm sorry." Yes, I was embarrassed, but she's used to seeing me eat. "It's just a shirt."

She snorted and wiped my mouth next.

"Hey." I backed away from her. "I'm no baby."

Bella opened another napkin and tucked it into my collar. "There you go."

I grinned, her flushed cheeks just making her more beautiful. "Thank you." My thumb traced her chin.

"Are you gonna kiss her _now_…?" Larissa had that attitude again.

Bella cleared her throat and went back to her seat.

"Eat your food," I told my niece.

**/=/=/=/=/**

Twenty minutes later, I was busy doing dishes, and Bella was with my mom in the living room. I heard them laughing and Mom talking very loudly. I could barely decipher it, though, her words sounding muffled with the water on.

I thought I got the shit end of the deal. I got the food, and here I am washing the dishes, too.

Although I was glad that Bella and my mom seemed to get along, I was aching to leave. I was stuffed from dinner and wanted to relax.

Truthfully, though, Bella and my mother hit if off. I'd never seen Bella so . . . happy? Smiley and giddy? So open? She was talking freely and not like she'd just met my mother. I liked that—she was comfortable; meanwhile, she's still not that at ease with me.

I was jealous . . . and I didn't know why.

"Can I have a Pop-Tart?" Larissa held it up to me. "I ate _my_ food."

"Ask Nanna, but you won't have them for breakfast if you eat them now."

"They're looking at photo albums," she said.

I dropped a plate. "What?"

Larissa giggled. "There's a picture of you naked—I saw your peeny weenie."

"My what?" I shouted.

"Your baby pictures."

"Fuck me…" I slumped my shoulders.

Larissa gasped.

"You don't say that word," I explained.

She shrugged, disappearing with the Pop-Tart.

After I was finished cleaning up from dinner, I wiped my hands dry with paper towels and went for the living room. Mom stopped me, coming toward me and blocking me in.

"I adore her."

I smiled. "You showed her my baby pictures."

"You were such a cute baby." She pinched my cheek.

I moved my face away. "Seriously, though?"

Mom pulled me farther into the kitchen. "I adore her."

"You've said that."

"She's sweet—I happen to believe she's just what you need." She held my hand, grinning up to me. "Especially . . . She's head over heels, fuck-nut crazy about you," she giggled.

I sucked my teeth. "We're not even dating."

"You're not? I thought you were just saying that…I didn't know why you would just say that, but…you're not?" She looked confused.

"No," I said. "We're friends."

Mom looked to the living room and back to me. "You talk about me needing glasses . . . Can you not see what's right in front of you?"

"What are you talking about?" Now she was confusing me.

"She's gorgeous." She started counting on her fingers. "And that's…one helluva body." She raised a brow. "She's in love with _you_, when she could—now, I love you, and I'm your mother, so you know I think the world of you, and that no one will ever be good enough for you, but she is. And, in a sense, she could do a whole lot better than you. But she's here _with_ _you_ . . . She's smart. It sounds like she comes from good people." She ran out of fingers and pushed my arm. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

I shrugged, shaking my head.

"Are you gay, Edward?" She frowned, rubbing my bicep.

"No!" I shouted. "God…"

"I mean, you can tell me…You loved that Shakira—had her posters but never listened to her music."

"Shakira, Shakira…" I sang. "No…I'm not gay."

"You can tell me."

"I'm not gay!" I nearly shouted.

"He's not," Bella said in the doorway.

"Thank you." I turned to smile at her.

"I was just…" She was fast to place her glass in the sink and then leave the kitchen. She didn't have to go.

"We should get out of here," I told my mother. "It's getting late—"

"Bullshit." Mom waved a hand. "It's Saturday night . . . Unless, you know, you're taking her back to your place to…" She punched the air.

"I wish," I grumbled.

"Ha!" She pointed and jumped, much like I would. "You're interested."

"Okay… I am, so what? We're friends, though." I trailed my hand through my hair.

Mom bumped her hip to mine, leaning on the counter next to me. "Go for it—talk to her about it, take her on a real date, romance." She sighed, resting her head on my bicep.

I reached to pat her cheek. "Calm down there."

"I'm so happy you guys came over." She sounded happy.

"Me too," I whispered. "But…Bella and me…we're friends, and I don't want to ruin that. We'll date and then what…? I don't know. I never . . . I don't know what my problem is. I mean, what's the point?"

"You fall in love, get married, have babies…"

"I don't even know if—I want those things." Truth be told, I was terrified that the apple wouldn't fall that far from the tree. "What if ... I don't wanna say this to upset you, but… forget it." I massaged my forehead.

"Say what you're going to say."

"Beating your wife is as American as the Fourth of July . . . Since I grew up seeing that shit . . . I'm sorry. Am I going to—I'd rather not know." I gulped, terrified to look at my mother, feeling mortified I even finished my thought, and I couldn't believe I was so forthcoming either.

"Look at me." She palmed my cheek. "When you're in love . . . tempers can flare. Your father and I were so young—we had Kate, we moved in here. Grandpa Platt didn't talk to me for years . . . They never approved of your father, but . . . that other shit? I started a lot of it. I'd get angry, I'd hit him…"

"You're going to blame yourself." I snorted in disbelief.

"It's true." She made me look at her again. "We…we fought. Your father had a nasty temper, and it only got worse after he drank . . . But you're not him. You're nothing like that side of him. You wouldn't believe me if I told you . . . But you do have some of his best qualities. You can be so sweet and kind, and you have loads of respect for women, my baby boy." She grinned and there were tears in her eyes.

"Let Bella in." She placed her hand on my heart. "She won't let you down—I don't think so. And the best way to prove you're nothing like Carlisle? Love that girl—treat her good, and you have babies." She nodded. "You have them, and you always be there for them. Don't bar hop, get sloppy drunk—just to prove you can do it without . . . Whatever that was you did weeks ago."

I looked away, embarrassed. "Sometimes I think about after Dad left . . . You worked, took care of us, but you were always there."

She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. "I love you."

I hummed, rubbing her back as something else came to mind. "You still seeing Steve?"

She let go of me. "He's changed—"

I groaned, not wanting to get into it. "You slap him around too? 'Cause if he does anything—"

"I'm a grown woman. You don't have to—"

"You're my mother," I said. "If anyone touches you, I'll kill them. Maybe I couldn't defend you when I was ten, but…fuck if someone hurts you now."

She shook her head. "We were having such a nice discussion."

Mom was right. I ruined whatever little moment we were having.

When I went to seek out Bella, she was in my old bedroom, giggling with my nieces. They were playing with makeup, Bella painting Larissa's face.

"How do I look?" Larissa had blue eye shadow on, looking like some baby prostitute. She also had her t-shirt tied, showing her stomach.

"Wear this right." I undid it, pulling the shirt down to cover her belly.

"Don't I look pretty?" She pouted.

"You'll look even prettier after you wash your face." I pointed.

Larissa stomped her feet as she left the room.

"That was harsh," Bell said.

"Me next." Maddy dropped down in front of her.

"What is this stuff?" I looked at the makeup.

"It's play stuff—it's their makeup, not mine."

"Oh…" I shrugged, plopping down onto the bed.

Maddy giggled, my weight making the bed and them bounce. "Can Bella sleep over?" She crawled to me.

"No…she has her own bed." One I hoped to fall asleep in tonight.

"This used to be your room?" Bella looked around.

"Yup." I rubbed my full stomach. "You ready to go?"

"No!" Maddy shouted. "Stay."

I jutted my lower lip out. "You gotta go to sleep soon."

Maddy leaned away. "I have to poop." She jumped over me, and I winced—curling up and groaning. She got me in the balls.

"Shit."

"I saw that." Bella was laughing so hard, she almost fell over. "She got you."

"Oh, yeah?" I yanked on her arm, making to her fly to me. She squealed and I tickled the fuck out of her sides. "It's so funny?"

She was laughing very hard, her body shaking and she made no sound. "Stop." She could barely gasp.

That was just an excuse to tickle her some more.

"Edward…stop." She chuckled and composed herself before she lightly pecked my lips.

It came as a surprise—shocked I stared down to her.

"Just…" she whispered, pulling my shirt and me toward her.

Her lips touched mine once more, and she opened her mouth—letting me explore, letting me taste her, and I held her tight—the tightest I've ever held anyone. My stomach was filled with butterflies, like those ones at the zoo, my heart beating too fucking fast . . . a kiss chock full of more passion than I could ever imagine. I'd kissed women before, but never like this—it was sexy, hungry, sloppy.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout!" Larissa shouted.

Bella and I stopped, and I leaned my head to her chin. "Fuck." I was out of breath, hoping my heart would slow itself down.

"Kiss her again." Larissa stood in front of us.

Bella pecked my lips, giggling.

"Your faces are red." My niece pointed.

I licked my lips, sitting up and pulling Bella with me. "We gotta go."

Larissa reached out and hugged Bella. "Thank you for coming today."

"Aww…thanks for inviting me."

"I didn't…that was him." She pointed to me.

"Come'ere." I yanked Larissa in for a hug, and then we sought my mother. She embraced Bella, too, said she could visit whenever—I didn't have to be with her, and then she gave Bella her phone number.

My mother has a birthday coming up and invited Bella to go out with her and her friends. I doubted she'd enjoy hanging with a bunch of divorcees while they drank themselves silly and bitched about their kids, but whatever.

Maddy was still on the toilet, but I poked my head into the bathroom to say goodbye, kiss her hair before we left.

Bella waved from the hallway.

"What was that?" I asked, once we were in the elevator.

"What was what?" Bella wouldn't look at me.

I turned her chin my way. "Um…" I didn't know—forgot what I was going to say. "Can I…?"

"Yes." Bella pulled me down to her, and I swore I was going to devour her—her lips, her—fucking her—my body feeling like a live wire, my hands trailing down to her ass, holding her to me.

Bella moaned, pulling on my shoulders, and I turned us—slamming her back into the wall. She hopped up, wrapping her legs around me, and I wished she'd worn a skirt.

"This is so hot." My hands rubbed up her thighs as she kissed down my neck. "Fuck." She sucked the skin, biting and licking, and then she turned my head for my lips.

"Hmm." She pulled away, moving her hips, creating friction.

I didn't know what to say, but in this moment . . . I wasn't afraid to look her in the eye. "We're friends…I…" I wondered where all this came from.

The elevator dinged, came to a stop, and Bella pushed against my chest. I let her down, and she righted her coat. Then she walked out, going outside into the cold.

"Bella—"

"What?" She whipped around to face me, this fire in her eyes.

"Whoa…" I put my hands up. "What did I say?"

"Nothing." She backed down, looking away from me. She started crying, and we had an audience. Crack Deals R Us was staring from the front door.

"The bus's this way." Whether she liked it or not, this isn't the safest neighborhood. I pulled her into my side as we walked up the block. "I told you I'm no good at this stuff."

"I thought—the way you kiss me—I just—you like me. I know you do," she whispered.

"I do," I admitted. "So much…" I kissed her hair. "You kiss me, and I forget my name. I want to know you for a long time. I don't know much, but I know that, and…we're friends…and…"

She stopped walking and jumped at me. Bella crashed her lips to mine, and this time I turned to lean her against a chain-linked fence.

"Stop doing that." I panted.

"Do you kiss all your friends like that?"

I looked away from her, and that's when I saw the gypsy cab on the corner. "Come on." I pulled her along with me toward the large sedan.

Once inside, I asked this dude to take us to the subway. Bella didn't say a word as he drove up the avenues, and all this tension filled the car.

As soon as we approached the train station, Bella ran out of the car. "Fuck." I slapped a five into the guy's hand and then ran after her. "Bella!"

She ignored me, but had slowed down.

"I'm not good for you. I'm doing you a favor." I didn't know what else to say, but I hated that she was angry with me.

She nodded. "Okay…Well, thanks for letting me know."

I let her down, in more ways than one, and I knew this wouldn't be the last time. Couldn't she see that?

"There's a guy in my Sociology class…I haven't accepted his offer, but now I will. Thanks for being straight with me."

"What?" My chest felt tight.

She started walking again and I was fast to keep up with her. "This guy Tim…he's cute, been asking me out. I never accepted because…I thought…I don't know what I thought."

"Don't go out with him," I said.

"Why not?"

I shrugged, getting angry. "Lemme meet him first, I guess—make sure he's not a douche."

"Right…'Cause you're my friend." She chuckled. "I'll go out with whomever I want, and this means you can't sleep over anymore."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because…you make me feel…and you give me mixed signals."

What she said before still bothered me. "You're really gonna go out with that guy?" We were at the subway, and she was fast to run down the steps.

"That's none of your business."

"Yes, it is—"

"Because I'm your friend." She thought that was hilarious as she swiped her metro card.

"Yo!" I held up my badge for the teller and jumped the turnstile. "I'm looking out for you," I told her as we walked down to the platform.

She hugged herself, staring down to the ground.

"Bella…" I pulled on her forearm, needing to know what she was going to do. "Don't—"

"You're just jealous—green with envy. You're scared to be with me for whatever reason, and that's okay. I'm not asking you to marry me. I want us to, to explore…" Her face was beet red. "I don't know."

"I just—"

She jumped at me again. I wasn't _not_ going to kiss her—claim those lips that morph perfectly to mine. Friend or not, she needed to stop this or I was going to—

"Don't go out with him," I said against her mouth.

"Why?" She wove her fingers into my hair. "Why, Edward?"

"Because—because I want you." I swallowed loudly, afraid I might choke on my tongue. "I don't know exactly what I want, but I want you—you to be—more than my friend." I stammered out. "Be with me."

She grinned. "That's a start." She nipped my lips, her hands roaming down to my chest. "And…you can kiss me whenever you want then—sleep over whenever," she sighed.

I smiled brightly, softly pecking those soft lips of hers. "I'll hold you to that."

"As long as you hold me . . ." She pulled me down to her again.

_**Thank you for reading. **_

_**Please leave me your thoughts. **_


	10. Date Night

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA**

**I don't have a schedule for this. When the chaps are ready, I'm posting them. Sadly, I have other obligations at the moment. So, you guys won't get chapter 11 until next week. Thank you all for reading and reviewing. Enjoy!**

* * *

"**Offbeat"**

**Chapter Ten: Date Night**

Nights are the worst. Not on the job, but after.

All alone, things still.

So, I do what I can to avoid the silence—volunteer for extra shifts, eat up any overtime they can give me, bang the fuck out of my keyboard, stop by the Twilight Lounge, or go to my mother's—hoping she's still awake.

Nine out of ten times, when I stop by my father's hangout, I don't even go in. When I do, he's usually not even there anymore, but I know he chills there during the day, early evenings, and I get out of work too late. Maybe Carlisle never left Manhattan, but he's good at disappearing, going off the grid. He never ever wanted to be found, and I still have no idea why I bother. I swore to stop passing by that spot.

My mother always seems to be up when I visit. Then again, she might stir awake hearing the door. When I lived there, she'd always fall asleep watching TV on the sofa. And I always wondered if the late night—the quietness—made her restless as well. Even in her bedroom, she has to sleep with the television on.

I used to sneak in and turn it off after she was out for the count.

Nevertheless, the more I have to do, the less time there is to think about things . . . things like being sad or angry, or worst of all . . . afraid.

Visits with Grandpa Platt were always few and far between. But when he'd visit or we'd visit him out in Queens, he'd always tell me, "Be brave and the world will respect you".

As if…as a kid, I had the slightest idea what the word brave even meant—like it was supposed to come naturally.

I'm the grandson of a legendary fire captain. He retired after 9/11, but people still remember his name. He wanted me to be a firefighter until September 11th, 2001 . . . when I was in middle school. Grandpa Platt used to talk about it all the time—be brave, follow my footsteps, but that tragedy changed him. He never flat out told me. He just stopped pushing me to be a fireman.

Although he never stopped telling me to be brave.

That's probably another reason I took this job—became a police officer since the firefighter route didn't interest me—to show him.

I'm one of New York's Finest instead of Bravest, and it's worked out so far.

I mean, I can't remember a time in my life where I wasn't trying to prove something, trying to be better at everything I did—always doing the right thing.

Maybe someday I'll qualify as brave in his book—not that I'll ever know.

He was diagnosed with Alzheimer's a few years back. His second wife—Nelly—put him in a home, where they take decent care of him. Sadly, after dumping him in that place, Nelly cleared out their accounts and took off. She was his trophy wife—twenty years his junior—after my grandmother died. Nanna passed away when I was seven. She had cancer.

I remember my mother being furious when Nelly left—looking for her, but it was all about money, not even my grandfather. His pension keeps him housed in that home nowadays—his fortune gone.

It might seem selfish, but I remembered being glad—thankful—that he'd put my college fund in my name. It was set aside for me. I'd offered it up, of course—said he could have it back. No one wanted to touch it. That was for me, for school.

Either way, it's not like he knows. He's in his own little world—putting out fires, and manning a battalion. And I think that's awesome.

_Life sucks, retreat to a better time…_

I'd visit, but he thinks I'm his son and not his grandson. My uncle—my mother's older brother, Anthony—died years back. His ladder was one of the first to arrive at the Trade Center. Anthony was missing for close to a month before they found his body. All of which destroyed my grandfather. Before that, he was going strong—old as fuck, but capable and didn't want to retire, had his head, and then one day he didn't.

So, was he brave? I just . . . I don't know.

My mother called me last night. My grandfather had a massive stroke in his sleep, and things aren't looking too good.

Doesn't matter—I can't think about that shit. I have to stay busy.

"Cullen!" I heard Jacob shout.

Turning and taking off my kevlar vest, I saw him run into the locker room. "What's up?"

He handed me a piece of paper. "I just saw this on the corkboard. It's still in Morningside—two bedrooms, second floor, hardwood floors—"

"Whoa . . . what?" I asked, trying to clear my head of the cobwebs as I undressed to redress in my civies—my street clothes.

Jacob adjusted his belt. "You and me—an apartment? I found one."

"Oh…" Truth be told, Emmett and Rosalie—just like I thought—told me I just had to be out of the apartment in time for them to get my room ready for the baby. I still had two months to play with.

"I could write a check—go there first thing tomorrow before it's snatched up, but it'll bounce unless I have your half," he explained. "It's $1,700 a month."

"$850 a month?" I asked, getting into my jeans. "That's less than I'm paying now."

"It's on 113th and Adam Clayton." He seemed nervous, fidgeting where he stood. "Also…"

"What?" I started buttoning my shirt, and then waved as Whitlock came in flanked by McCarty. "What's up, guys?"

Emmett grumbled, going toward his locker, and Whitlock started singing . . .

"What's up?" I asked; Jacob was still in my face.

He looked around us. "On—on my way in?" He came in after me, having spilled a Slushie in the RMP. I told that fucker not to get one. How tough does a cop look with a blue tongue? Greenish teeth? Blueberry, my ass. I rest my case. My partner may only be a year younger than me, but maturity-wise…? He's like seventeen. "Well, I saw Bella. She's outside the precinct . . ."

"Yeah, they're here," Jasper confirmed. "I'm taking Ali to my place, so . . ." He winked at me.

Smiling widely, I turned back to Black. "And...?" I asked.

Tonight is going to be our first actual date. With me working so much, on my last day off, I pretty much slept the day away. Then I went to Bella's for dinner, only to crash there. It was a good day.

But a date . . . it should be romantic, right? She shouldn't have to cook? It's late—midnight already—and I had no idea where we'd go. This is the city that never sleeps. I knew we'd find someplace to go.

I told her to choose—make up her mind, which is never difficult for Bella. That's one of the many fantastic things about her. She's not like most of the broads out there . . . indecisive and whatnot. Well, the women I know personally. Fuck. I can't seem to be able to make up my mind either, so . . . I'm just not great with choices. For example, I like only having two—yes or no, do or don't—shit like that.

I'm secretly hoping—with what Jasper just said about Alice going to his place—Bella wants to hang out at her place. We could have some privacy, maybe we'd finally have sex . . . I didn't know, nor did I care what we did really.

Going out, doing something . . . that's for her. I'm content to chill wherever, as long as we're together?

"I know you said—what you said—but you guys aren't dating . . ." Jacob gulped loudly. "I mean, she's interested... She gave me her phone number."

"What?" I raised a brow.

Maybe I wasn't 100% on this relationship stuff, but _we_ were a thing, and I wasn't happy about her having given up the digits to this fuck. What was up with that? In fact, my chest felt tight, and I wanted to strangle him, or go out and confront Bella. Maybe she wasn't as decisive as I thought . . .

"She gave you her phone number?" It was a bit unbelievable, or I had a hard time processing that.

He nodded. "I mean—"

"Call her," I said. "Right now." My teeth were gnashed together, and I wished I wasn't pissed.

"Why?" Jacob took out his phone.

I leaned toward him. "Just fucking do it. Call her."

"Hey…" Jasper jumped between us, placing his hand on my chest. "What's going on?

"Call her." I pointed to Jacob.

After he says hello—she answers—I'll get on the phone to surprise her.

We've only been whatever-the-fuck we are for a week. We haven't even fucked yet. Truth be told, besides some crazy good kissing, things are the same—we're friends who make out, she feeds me and gives me blue balls, and we snuggle until we fall asleep. I didn't know if that made her my girlfriend or what, what the fuck we were, and so . . . Did I have the right to be angry with her?

Jacob backed away from me, bringing his phone to his ear. After another second, _my_ fucking cell phone started to ring. It was a coincidence, and I stared at a number that was unknown to me.

"Hello?" I heard my voice mirrored back to me—coming from Jacob's receiver.

"Edward?" he asked the phone, staring right at me.

I smiled, feeling so much better, placing my cell back into my pocket.

"Why would she give me your number?" He scratched his head.

Since I was changed, had everything stuffed in my small duffle, I closed my locker.

"I thought—could she have been confused?" Jacob, the boy wonder, still didn't have a clue as to why Bella gave him my number instead of her own.

"'Cause we're a thing now—me and her. We're together, so you need to step off. Understand?" I asked. "You didn't respect my words before . . . you keep at it, we'll have a problem." I wasn't going to do this with him—like, if he wanted to keep pursuing her.

He put his hands up. "Jesus…that's all you had to say. I didn't mean to overstep." Jacob turned, going over to his locker.

I chuckled, tossing my duffle onto my shoulder.

"What was that about?" Whitlock asked.

I shrugged, not wanting to get into it. Jasper knows Bella and I are together now. He congratulated me and all, but I didn't want to get into Jacob or what just happened.

"Um…" Jacob showed me the ad for the apartment, and the thought of sharing a place with him . . . having Bella over.

"We do this…it doesn't make us friends." I felt like a dick. "We're partners—I don't wanna have to look at you outside this place, too. It'd be too much." I looked over to Emmett to see if he'd weigh in, explain how shit worked, but he was too busy scowling and aggressively changing—slamming shit around.

Jacob nodded. "I respect that. Look, if I could afford my own place—"

Unfortunately, I was in the same boat as he was. "It's cool. We'll take lost time tomorrow—go check this place out. Call the landlord."

"Awesome. I'll call first thing in the morning," he said.

"Do not tell them we're cops. They need proof of employment—whatever the fuck—that's a different story," I told him.

"Why?" Jacob looked confused. "They might be more compelled to rent—"

"People know you're a cop, they ask for favors, want you to look out," Jasper said. "You know you always change when you get here and shit. Most people are just satisfied knowing you got a good job with the city."

I pointed to Whitlock and nodded my head. Jasper's words were very true. No one knows McCarty and I are cops where we live. Our landlord knows, but we asked him to keep it on the hush, and he doesn't give a fuck anyway—lives out in Jersey and only comes by the building once a month.

We mail our rent checks anyway.

"Fuck!" Emmett shouted, kicking his locker.

"What's his problem?" I asked.

Jasper chuckled. "Hale just told him—Cap is sending this one to sensitivity training." He jerked his head.

"Why?" I looked to Emmett.

"Eh…" Jasper winced. "We had a little problem earlier."

"I didn't have a problem." Emmett placed his hand on his chest. "The can had the beef—"

"Can?" I shook my head.

Jasper hit my arm. "Listen to this fucker."

Emmett huffed a breath. "You know…Mexi-_can_, Domini-_can_, Ri-_can_—some_ ese_ had a problem with me."

I had no idea what to say, how to respond to that. There were a million things wrong with his sentence.

"Meanwhile, I was trying to help him!" Emmett shouted. "He was robbed—"

"It's true," Jazz said. "He just…I didn't hear what he said, but he called in a complaint—said McCarty insulted him."

"Everybody's too fucking sensitive—always gotta worry about their feelings. I'm out there to patrol the streets, not hold people's hands!" McCarty groaned.

"Well," Jasper rocked back on his heels, facing me, "this isn't the first time that dumb mick bastard had to go for counseling—"

"What'd you just say?" Emmett flew at him, and I stopped him. "Mick, what?" he hollered.

"He was making a point," I said.

Jasper laughed. "I was . . . How'd that feel?"

McCarty let out a growl and went back over to his locker.

I turned to Jasper. "I'll forgive you for that mick shit."

He shrugged. "I _was _making a point . . . he doesn't like it. Just like I don't like being called a mutt or white-trash, and those cans…" he said to Emmett, "don't like being called wet-backs, or anything else. A bean eater? Where do you come up with this shit anyway?"

"They're just words, expressions, to differentiate. And I didn't say that to the guy's face."

I rolled my eyes, sighing, knowing Bella was still waiting for me. "I'm out."

_**/=/=/=/=/**_

She was beautiful, waiting under the street lamp next to Alice.

Bella was bundled in her coat, her scarf wrapped around her neck, and I couldn't wait for warm weather again—when she might not be inclined to wear so much clothing. Her legs were bare tonight, but she wore boots. The coat she wore is long. I'm guessing she's wearing a skirt, and that made me even happier.

Although, she was dressed to go out somewhere.

"Hey," I said.

She smiled brightly.

"What's taking Jasper so long? I'm freezing." Alice shivered.

"Go inside—you _can_, go inside," I laughed, because I didn't know why they chose to wait out here.

"Thanks," Alice said, turning to Bella. "You have fun tonight." She kissed her cousin's cheek and then entered the precinct.

I grabbed Bella's sleeve, making her face me. "You look good."

"Thank you." She looked down.

Holding her chin, I ducked to place a soft kiss on her lips. Then I paused, an inch away, wanting to kiss her again—give her a smooch that'll blow my mind. "You gave Jacob my phone number?"

She giggled. "I felt bad . . . I don't know." Her eyes left me, but her smile hadn't. "I couldn't just say no. I don't know."

"You better get used to telling other fuckers no." I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close. "That cool?"

She nodded. "I know…he was just…he was persistent, and I'm not interested. I'm with you. I l-like you."

I nodded. "All right." Little did she know…Christ. It'd fucking kill me if she really did engage in other…prospects. I didn't even wanna think about it.

"Was he upset?"

I smiled even wider, roaming my hands down her back. "He was devastated…as gorgeous as you are? Are you kidding?"

She laughed. "Stop."

"I'm serious . . ." I bent low to capture those lips once more. She grasped my shoulders, keeping me there, and she didn't have to do that. "Can we go to your place?"

"Oh…" Her face fell a bit, and I hated that. "I thought you wanted to—"

"We can do anything you want," I promised. "Anything."

"Anything?" She mirrored.

I chuckled. "We should save bungee jumping and sailing for the weekend."

She agreed. "Definitely." Her wide eyes let me know she got my joke. "I . . . I want to hear music." She'd brought her voice down. "I've been avoiding it—all kinds of music." There were tears in her eyes now. "It was just so loud that day…If we could listen to music—if you were playing it. I mean—that's what I want to do, hear you play, because…you make me feel safe, and then we can go back to my place."

I nodded. "My keyboard is at my house—"

"That old bar—The Twilight Lounge?"

"What?" I was surprised she knew of its existence, and even more shocked she'd bring it up in conversation.

"The bar by my building?" she asked. "I gave the bartender twenty dollars…so we could use the piano they have."

My lips drew a tight line. Ironically, I knew that piano all too well, having been taught how to play on it. That upright used to belong to my father. When he took off, he didn't take it with him, but then Mom had it taken away—taken to Carlisle, who didn't have any place to put it. His best friend housed it at the Twilight Lounge. No one ever play it…tucked in the back, behind the pool table, collecting dust.

Carlisle might keep it in tune, but fuck if I knew.

"You don't want to do that," she spoke to herself. "We can—"

"Um…it's fine," I said, clearing my throat. "You paid him twenty bucks?" I asked. "And how did you know they had a piano? And what—"

"Hey…" She shook my arms. "It's not a big deal…"

"Do you hang out in there? Or…" It was just too close for comfort.

She shook her head. "When I first moved here—that bar is closer to the subway—I went in there to escape the rain. I had a soda, and I saw it in there."

"Oh…" That squashed the sickly feeling in my gut, but not really. "Are you sure? It's seedy—not very romantic."

"It will be, if you're there." She stood on her toes to nip my lips.

"Okay." I drew in a deep breath.

"How was work?" She linked her arm with mine, and we started to walk.

"Eh…the neighborhood was hopping today." I forced out a laugh, still a bit uneasy about where we were headed.

"I spoke to my dad." I felt her eyes on me. "I told him we were dating…"

"What'd he say?" I asked.

She pursed her lips as a small smile crept up. "He thought you were too old, and then when I told him you were twenty-three, he was surprised."

"Oh…" I furrowed my brow.

"He told me, um, to, to watch myself?" It sounded like a question. "Young police officers like to play the field…?"

I lifted her hand to kiss her palm. "Even single…before I met you, I didn't do that." I wasn't sure what I could say to make her trust me. Just like…she says she trusts me, but does she really?

"Doesn't matter. I trust you," she said, and that settled that. "The past three years, when spring semester ends, I go see him . . . for a couple of weeks. That's—that'll be the end of May, which isn't too far away."

"You're leaving?" I stopped us, staring at the frown that marred her face.

"Yeah, but—"

"It's cool." I wasn't sure what to say, or why she'd change her plans, or if she would just for me. "I hope you have fun and shit."

"I'd be back in a few weeks…"

I nodded as we started walking again. "Do whatever. I don't own you." I really wished there was a way I could, which was an odd thought to have.

"You could always . . . take some time off, come out for a week?"

My initial response was to laugh. "Me go out there?" I'd never even been on a plane before. I've never even left New York before. Well, besides going out to Jersey to visit extended family as a kid. "Where would I stay? With you and the Chief?"

"Why not?"

As we approached the bar, I didn't know why not. "Here we are." With my heart in my throat, I opened the door to the Twilight Lounge, hoping and praying my father wasn't here.

"Hey." She placed her hand on my chest, us standing in the doorway. "Don't be nervous. I'll love whatever you play." She's usually a lot more perceptive than this, although I've never said a word about my father before, nor has she asked. "And . . . owning me? I hope you stake your claim tonight. Alice is gone . . ." She trailed off, heading into the bar ahead of me.

But she basically just said we were having sex tonight, right?

Now, wearing a smile, I followed in after her. This dump was dark and dingy like always; Hank was behind the bar talking to the few who occupied it. My eyes darted around for Carlisle, and I didn't see him. Thank God.

"Edward!" Hank greeted, his eyes landing on Bella. "Oh…" He slowly nodded, understanding coloring his face. "Go on ahead—I'll bring you guys two Cokes?" He winked.

I gave him a head nod. "Sounds good." Apparently, twenty bucks covers piano use and two sodas.

He put his head down, grabbing glasses, and the famous question of "Is he here?" was on the tip of my tongue. But then Bella would ask me who Carlisle was.

"Ready?" I took Bella's hand.

"I thought you loved to play." She was confused. "Why are you upset? You don't have to be nervous. It's just me." Yeah, it was just her—Bella. Bella. Bella. She mattered, her opinion mattered, but I wasn't worried about missing a key, or a note. I didn't want to be put in a situation where she'd meet the man who got my mother pregnant. I didn't want her to think less of me. I didn't want to be embarrassed tonight. It was our first date, which was so important to me.

I didn't say anything—knowing exactly where the piano was and ushering her along.

Bella grabbed a chair, went to sit at a table, but I didn't let go of her hand. "You're coming with me." I pulled the bench out, gesturing for her to sit.

She grinned, sitting down and sighing.

Again, I followed her lead, noticing there wasn't a speck of dirt or dust on this old thing. I'd bet it was tuned as well. "Ready?" I placed my hands over the keys.

"What are you going to play?" She bit her lip, and now _she_ looked anxious.

I pulled her lip out from between her teeth. "Nothing that'll upset you—nothing classical."

She toyed with her bracelet. "It's stupid, huh? Me being scared of music? It was just so loud . . . I can deal with the pop stuff Alice listens to, but . . . she keeps it low."

"Hey, nothing—and I mean nothing—is going to happen to you or hurt you. It's just you and me." I placed my lips to hers.

A throat clearing broke us both apart. It was Hank with the Cokes. "I'll just…" He placed them on the table nearest us and then turned back for the bar.

"Okay…" Bella leaned into my side.

Then I had to rack my brain, as I had no idea what to play for her. Her problem wasn't necessarily with classical, just with that song, and she's just been avoiding music in general, but it doesn't really bother her.

A tune came to mind—my fingers knowing the keys from memory. It was one of the first songs my father taught me, the first complex song.

"I know this song!" Bella sounded excited as I continued on. "Someone to watch . . . over me," she softly sang along, leaning her head on my bicep.

I turned stare at her—at that smile, that face, her hair smelling amazing, the scent in my nose.

"You can play without looking?" Her nose touched mine.

I grinned, leaning and placing my lips to hers. My position was awkward, Bella giggling into my mouth as I hit the keys.

"Can we go back to my place now?" she whispered, all breathy and with her eyes closed.

"Yeah." I rasped, my mouth dry. If I was nervous earlier, I was even more so now. I'd been waiting for her to give the okay, for her to want me in that way, for us to have the opportunity, and here it was. "You-you're done?" I hadn't stopped playing yet, continuing the song. "Um…wanna hear another one?"

"You playing…" She sucked in a shaky breath, and I stopped playing. "Being with you . . . it's like the world disappears."

I nodded, knowing exactly how she felt, nuzzling my nose to hers.

About to kiss her, a round of applause interrupted me. My stomach dropped when I heard a familiar hoot and holler. Carlisle had emerged from the back room that's usually off-limits. He'd left the door ajar, and I tried to look to no avail. As if he followed my line of sight, he closed the door, still smiling.

"That was excellent," he said.

I gave him a head nod, my leg bouncing.

"Can't believe you remember that." His gaze fell on Bella, his hands on his hips. "Who's this classy byrd?"

Bella giggled, looking between Carlisle and me.

"This is Bella . . ." I placed my hand on her back.

My father dipped his head to take her hand, kiss her knuckles, and that . . . yeah, it bothered me. "This is Carlisle." I tilted my head.

He stared at me, his face falling.

"We were just leaving." I stood from the bench.

Bella did the same, her movements slower. "How…do you know each other?" Her head whipped back and forth.

"He's . . ." I paused. "An old family friend."

Carlisle smiled. "We're old mates."

"Let's go." I placed my arm around Bella, hurrying us out.

"Wait a second." She tried to stop me. "What, um—"

Once outside with the door to the bar closed, I stopped to face her. "What's up?" My attempt at nonchalance was for shit, but I tried.

Bella shook her head, a crease developing between her brows. "Talk to me." She placed her hand on my cheek.

"All we do is talk…" I scoffed.

"No," she disagreed. "I talk…you, you don't say a word."

I massaged my forehead. "What do you want from me? I told you—I'm not good at this shit."

"Edward…" My father couldn't leave well enough alone, poking his head out.

Between a rock and a hard place—Bella and Carlisle—I didn't say a word.

"Here's my phone number—my address." He handed me a small piece of paper. "We should meet—catch up."

I swallowed, staring down at the Post-it.

"Have a good night," he told Bella with a wink and disappeared again.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just—"

"Who is that?" She came over, reaching up to hold my cheeks. "You have the same eyes."

I shrugged, looking down the street.

"Come on." She took my hand. "Let's go."

Content with that, she led the way at first until I eventually calmed down. Instead of throwing Carlisle's address into the trash, I placed it in my pocket.

_**Thank you for reading. **_

_**Please leave me your thoughts. **_


	11. Aftermath

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. Beta'd by HollettLA**

**** Special Thanks to CaraNo who helped me when I was stuck. She wrote this DELICIOUS Lemon! So, please thank her in your reviews, too! My lemon machine/guru! Mwah! Love ya, babes!**

***** So very sorry for the wait. 'Twas not my intention, trust! **

"**Offbeat"**

**Chapter Eleven: Aftermath **

When we got to Bella's, she excused herself—leaving me in the living room with my thoughts. I started feeling a little uneasy because I'd lied before about Carlisle.

All Bella wants to do is get to know me.

So, why was it difficult to let her? Let her know me? I didn't understand.

Carlisle actually looked good and put together, not like the drunken mess I'm used to seeing.

Saying—admitting that he was my father . . .

Well, then maybe Bella would have started with the twenty questions. In her true characteristic, I give Bella an inch and she takes a mile. There was also no way we'd all sit and laugh and chat about the good times . . .

There weren't any good times.

None that I could remember.

Bella met Esme and that's enough…for now. She's spent time with my nieces, and if she goes to my mother's birthday party, she'll meet my sister. She can get to know them.

Speaking of,_ I_ barely know Carlisle, so . . .

"Hey…" She came back in with bare feet. That's what I noticed. When my eyes trailed upward, I saw that she was wearing a silky dark blue robe, which wasn't like that huge, fluffy shit she wears after a shower.

"Hi," I whispered.

"Come on." She turned back for her bedroom with a small jerk of her head.

A smile immediately appeared on my face as I heaved myself off the couch.

This was it . . .

The moment I'd been waiting for.

Truth be told, I could hardly remember the last time I'd had sex.

When I entered, she was putting down a lighter, having just lit a few candles on her dresser. It was the only light shining, aside from the dim glow coming from the living room.

"You okay?" She toyed with the sash tied around her waist, her eyes curious.

I nodded and blew out a breath.

I was fine.

I think.

Standing in front of her—right next to her bed—it was difficult to get a good grasp on what I was feeling and go with it.

A part of me was anxious as fuck to devour her, make her scream, and then the other half was the nervous kid in me. He needed Bella to take the lead.

"You sure…?" There was some teasing in her tone, but all I could focus on was how she slowly began to untie that robe.

I needed it _off_.

I wasn't a fucking virgin, yet I stood here lookin' like one. My stomach was doing somersaults, my fingers were twitching at my sides, and I kept having to swallow my nerves—afraid I'd swallow, choke on my tongue.

"Yeah," I finally said, taking a step closer. Fuck me. She was sexy. Her robe hadn't disappeared yet, but I was doing something about that now.

Trailing my fingers up her arms, I watched how her skin broke out in goose bumps. "Let me…" I slowly slipped my hands underneath the silky fabric that clung to her shoulders and let it slide down, exposing more and more skin. "Fuck." I swallowed.

That robe was pooling at her feet, and I had Bella completely naked in front of me. It was almost surreal. "So fucking beautiful," I heard myself murmur. My eyes drank her in, her curves, slender waist, soft-looking stomach, and perfect tits, and I had unconsciously closed the last distance between us.

I'd look farther down, but I didn't wanna embarrass myself.

"You're wearing too much." She chuckled, all breathy. I stood still as she tugged at the hem of my shirt, and when she couldn't reach, I took over and pulled it over my head. The action sorta snapped me outta my haze, and I dipped down and claimed her mouth in a deep kiss.

I was already breathing heavily, but something else . . . something that shouldn't be on my mind at a time like this was. When I pulled away, I held her chin, gazing into those gorgeous brown eyes. "That guy at the bar—"

She was still trying to get at my lips, hopping up and managing to get me in a lip-lock that, once again, made me forget myself.

Bella whined when I pulled away again.

"That was my father," I whispered, my hands grabbing at that ass, pulling her against my hard-on. "I-I didn't tell you because—well, I didn't introduce you because—"

"Your mother told me you don't have a relationship with your father."

Surprised, my brows rose. "She—"

"She told me." Her nails scraped against my scalp, and I nestled into her hand. It felt crazy good.

"Okay." I just needed her to know, and I waited to see if she'd say more.

When she didn't, I went for that mouth again.

"I want you on the bed," I muttered, kissing my way down her throat. My hands slid up her sides; I cupped her full tits firmly, giving test squeezes. She moaned softly, and her lips were ghosting over my collarbone. That set me on fire, and I suddenly didn't have time to let her respond or take any kind of lead. Instead I picked her up, at which she let out a cute little squeal, and I chuckled as I dropped her on the bed. "Shite." She looked too damn sexy like that, all naked, and her hair splayed all over her pillows. And her smile. . .

Even her eyes were smiling.

"Shite?" she giggled. "I've never heard you say that."

I shrugged, not wanting to talk, and covered her body with mine, hovering over her quickly. I kissed her hard and hungrily, groaning at the feel of her softness against my roughness—or whatever I could call it. But I couldn't get over how…I don't know, soft and delicate she felt? Yet, I had a feeling she could also be a rock—to lean on or something.

"Still wearing too much," she mumbled into the kiss, and then she started pushing down my pants with her fucking toes. That made me smile; meanwhile, her fingers were in my hair, pulling, twisting, making me moan. I was hard as a goddamn diamond between her thighs, and once she'd successfully shoved down my pants and boxers, there was nothing in the way.

"Christ." I sat up, kneeling between her legs. My chest heaved with heavy breaths as I stared down at her body.

It was shadowed here and there by the candlelight, and her skin almost looked like gold. Her nipples were tight little buds, beckoning me to suck on them. She had a belly button I wanted to dip my tongue into, and her pussy… Fucking hell, I couldn't tear my eyes away once I'd looked.

"Wet," I whispered, transfixed, too quiet for her to hear.

Her slit—I could _see_ how wet she was.

Before I even knew what I was doing, my elbows hit the mattress and my nose was skimming over her soft flesh. I inhaled deeply as she squirmed and whimpered, but if I had any doubts whether or not she wanted this, they flew out the window when she whispered, "Please."

I grunted a curse, turned on beyond words, and gently, slowly, parted her lips with my tongue. Her taste hit my tastebuds; slow and gentle flew out, as well. I fucking devoured that pussy—like I was starving. I licked and sucked, circled my tongue around her clit, and teased her tight entrance with two fingers. By the time I actually pushed one in, she was begging and moaning loudly.

A smile stretched across my lips, and I looked up at her face, all contorted in pleasure. If that didn't made me feel like a king, what would?

"I—I need…" She gasped and fisted the sheets. "Fuck, I need more, Edward."

"Anything, baby." I smirked and licked her clit.

Eyes squeezed shut, she licked her lips and nodded. "Okay." Then she surprised me by sitting up and turning around. Which meant. . .

"Fuck me," I breathed out, eyes wide. She was face-to…well, face-to-cock, really. "Bella…"

With a small nudge, she had me on my side, so we were both facing each other's nether regions. Bella just grinned up at me, and then she gripped my cock and sucked it into her hot little mouth.

"Fuck!" I groaned and dropped my forehead to her thigh. My hips bucked in reflex, sinking my cock deeper into her mouth, but she just hummed and went to fucking town on me.

It was hot, so wet, and to top it off, I had her pussy right in front of my damn face—and her scent… "Jesus," I muttered, out of breath, and lowered my mouth to her pussy again.

"Mmm…" She made humming noises and those wet, slurpy sounds—they were driving me crazy with lust.

I felt crazed, eating her out like I'd never done before. When my tongue entered her, licking her slick inner walls, she moaned and sent vibrations through my dick that almost made me lose it.

Placing a hand on the back of her head, I started fucking her mouth, getting desperate, and encouraged her to do the same. I wanted her to ride my goddamn face as if her life depended on it.

It was beginning to be too much, yet I needed more. A _lot_ more. Of her, of her body…

"Edward," she cried out, letting me go. "Now—_fuck_ me."

"Yeah," I panted, too eager.

"There's…" She was panting, too. "There're condoms." She pointed to the nightstand.

Kneeling up on the bed again, I scrubbed a hand over my face—trying to gather my fucking wits—and I told her, "Lie down with your head up there." I jerked my chin at the pillows.

And I watched as she scrambled into position, her tits bouncing slightly. Condom box open, I grabbed one and quickly tore the foil. Then I felt her eyes on me as I rolled it onto my cock.

"You drive me insane," she whimpered and spread her legs wide. "I need you."

I grinned, thinking I was glad to have the same effect on her as she did on me. But when I was between her thighs once more, cock ready to just slam in, I wondered if maybe I wasn't a bit more obsessed than she was.

I mean…I'm the one who's actually tried to resist the idea of us. And now it's all boiling underneath the surface. I tried to play the friend, not to mention the understanding guy who knew Bella'd been through something traumatic.

Look how that worked out.

Now I don't even know why I tried . . .

'Cause I've never wanted anyone more—not like this, ever.

"So handsome and hot and sexy." She kissed my face, that butterfly kind that went all over. My cheeks, my forehead, my nose, my chin… "_Please_, Edward."

As hot as it was to have her begging and pleading for me, it wasn't necessary.

It was becoming abundantly clear to me that this woman would have me pussy-whipped one of these days. Most likely, some day very soon.

"Bella…" I kissed her lips, hovering over her, and guided my cock to where she was the wettest and the hottest.

I eased my way into her slowly, remembering her off-handed comment about only being with that one guy to lose her virginity, and I wasn't sure if there'd been others.

Regardless, I didn't wanna hurt her.

"More," she whined when I was half in.

_Fuck._

I screwed my eyes shut and buried my face in the crook of her shoulder. I was fucking struggling here. She was tight—it felt so good—and it had been a while since I'd gotten laid.

Gritting my teeth, I pushed in all the way and released a shallow breath. "Oh, fuck."

Bella whimpered and dug her nails into my shoulder blades, her pussy constricting around me. It was like a fucking vise. "Yeah—_God_, baby. . . So, so good."

I nodded, cupped her cheek, and kissed her deeply, pushing my tongue into her mouth.

She groaned and spurred me on with all these little actions—how she tangled our legs together, pulled me closer, kissed me harder, and breathed my name. Goose bumps spread over my skin, and I moved in her with firm strokes, our hands roaming with touches that revealed desperation, not only on my part but hers, too. For which I was kinda thankful, truth be told. Because Bella, she had the ability to make me feel vulnerable.

She mattered. She made me wanna give it a shot—put myself out there for her.

That shit about vulnerability is proof of that.

"I want you," she gasped, throwing her head back.

Slamming into her, I kissed and sucked on her neck, thinking that she already had me. More than I was ready to admit. Or maybe I was ready, but I needed to know just how much I had her—before I confessed to any of this shit. I don't know. _Fucking feelings, man. . . Mindfuck and a half_.

For now, I pushed all that aside.

And focused on fucking my Bella.

Supporting my weight with my left elbow on the mattress, right next to her head, I slid my free hand down her smooth skin, not stopping until I reached her clit. While moving in her a bit faster and kissing her rougher, greedier, I rubbed her clit in tight little circles. Shit, my finger was soaked in an instant, and her moans told me I was hitting all the right spots.

As the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly harder to keep going. The way she felt, hot and slick around my throbbing cock, and those little gasps she let out when I hit deep…fuck, it was too much. Once again, I found myself gritting my teeth. I rubbed her harder, swiveled my hips, and sucked a nipple into my mouth—all to get her off soon. It wasn't like she was hard to please; it was just that I was acting like a goddamn teenager all of a sudden. This fucking broad—what was it with her? I wanted to crawl under her skin. Or maybe just fuck her for the rest of my life.

"Look at me, Bella," I mumbled, resting my forehead to hers. And when her eyes flashed open…those dark, expressive browns…the words "done for" crossed my mind. "You're so…" I shook my head. No fucking words.

She swallowed; a breath hitched in her throat, and then another gasp. "I, oh Jesus…" Her back arched, her lips parted, and her pussy clamped down on me, causing me to spit out a curse. "Close, Edward—fuck, close!"

"Thank God," I chuckled through a groan. "It's all I want right now—feeling you coming around my cock."

I don't know why I voiced all that out loud, but it sure as shit worked on Bella. With a silent scream, she fell apart under me, and I watched like some predator as I fucked her through her orgasm. It was the hottest fucking sight, and it brought me to my knees. _Metaphorically speaking_. But what really happened was the explosive climax that surged through me for half a lifetime. My jaw was tight, teeth clenched—hell, my whole damn body was rigid as I came. And the way Bella's pussy squeezed me… She made me pulse inside of her, draw more releases from me.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I panted. I wanted to just drop my weight on her—I felt like mush—but I figured I'd crush her, so instead I reluctantly pulled out and collapsed beside her. Scrubbing both hands over my face, I wiped off perspiration; I was so hot, but at the same time I was shivering as if I was cold.

"I have no words," Bella giggled breathlessly. "That was so…so…"

I grinned up at the ceiling and placed my hands behind my head. Yeah, it'd been _"so, so…"_ Fucking amazing. "That good, huh?" I chuckled, still outta breath. She nodded and used my bicep as a pillow, to which I tilted my head and kissed her on the forehead. "Couldn't agree more, baby."

"Mmm," she hummed. "You know what you should do now?"

"Fall asleep wit'chu in my arms?" I hoped. 'Cause there was nothing else I wanted to do right now. I mean…I was dead on my feet—working all day, and it was late… And I thought, if I phrased it all sweet, she'd just say yes.

"Yep." She popped a kiss on my chin. "Once you've gotten rid of the condom," she said that with a singsong voice, which made me smile 'cause it was cute, but then I groaned, hating this part.

Fucking rubbers. . .

"Oh, and can you…maybe fold your clothes?" She waved a hand, her naked body scooting from the bed. It made her tits jiggle. "I'll do it."

And I thought it was cute…that even after such a good fuck, her OCD, her need to have the place tidy was shining through.

**Thank you for reading. **

**Please leave me your thoughts.**


	12. Rat Race Part One

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

**Sorry for the wait . . . I know this is short, but it took a lot to get back into these characters...after such a long time. I hope to update again VERY soon. Thank you and enjoy!**

* * *

**Offbeat**

**Chapter Twelve: Rat Race Part One**

_**W**_ith Bella needing to study for final exams, I've been sleeping at home—in my own bed.

It sucks, and I miss waking up to her. Bella makes me breakfast every morning, and there's always coffee, but most of all, I miss her smiling face. I miss holding her and the peace . . . the calming effect she has on me. I never toss and turn in her bed.

Once we started fucking, it seemed like that's all we did. The passion was off the charts. I'd never had sex like that in my life—in my fucking life. And it's funny how I suddenly had this cheery side.

I wasn't as restless. I was smiling more, and Black hardly got on my nerves.

Things were going well . . . for about a week.

Now…? Well, I missed my girl. I felt off without seeing her every day. I mean, I'd still see her every day, but because of my work schedule, our schedules, we didn't have enough quality time. She has school four days a week, and she's in bed by the time I get off now—studies from when she gets home until her eyes close.

Bella's obsessive when it comes to schoolwork, puts more effort into her studies than anyone I've ever known. It's admirable in a way. I know I never went above and beyond.

Well, I sort of did when I requested to be placed on Second Watch—wanting to work days instead of evenings. No dice. There was no fucking way I was going to get it. Not since Jasper's been requesting days for the last five years to no avail.

I was stuck, and I didn't have enough seniority.

But that's what Bella's done to me.

I could text her when I get off, or go over with Jasper, have Alice let me in so I could sneak into bed with her.

But I wanted to respect her goals as well.

It got so bad that after a couple of days without her, I wondered what I'd done before I'd met her—how I'd spent my time when I wasn't on the beat.

My wandering mind led me back to my keyboard, but I couldn't find the music, nor did I have the enthusiasm to play.

I felt as though I was lacking something.

Work wasn't as fulfilling . . .

What the fuck was Bella doing to me?

I was pussy-whipped, just as I'd predicted, but I was also Bella-whipped—chained to anything Bella, it seemed.

That scared me.

There's no way a broad could have that much control over my life.

There's no way I was _giving_ a broad that much_ power_ over me . . .

I needed to shake it off and set boundaries?

Panting for air, my chest rapidly rising and falling, I stopped running to bend over, placing my hands on my knees. "That's enough…" I rasped, talking to Emmett.

He jogged in place next to me. "Come on, bro! That's all you got?"

I quirked a brow, thinking he was insane. "How many miles was that?"

He looked to his pedometer. "Three, but don't tell me—"

I huffed, turning from him. "I'm takin' the bus home. Good luck." Exercising is one thing, but I only run when I'm chasing somebody, and the longest I'd ever gone after a perp was five blocks maximum before tackling a fucktard to the ground. "Fuck this," I spoke to myself as I heard Emmett stomping to catch up to me. "What?"

He nudged me, chuckling. "We'll walk back, Grandpa."

My face fell while I thought about my grandfather. He's still bad off, barely hanging on after his stroke. Out of it, we don't even know what damage it did to him. Mom has been visiting with him daily, and he's on a respirator. His doctor spoke to my mother about the possibilities of them pulling the plug, as there were no instructions regarding extraordinary measures.

My sperm donor, Carlisle, somehow found out, and he's been keeping in touch with my mother. Maybe he doesn't know that Grandpa's wife, Nelly, had taken off with his dough? He thinks Mom will get some inheritance he'll be able to live off of?

Either way, no matter what Mom's doing, I haven't used the Post-It to contact him. Fuck that.

"You all right?" Emmett squeezed my shoulder.

"Yeah…" I nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'll race ya back."

"What?" he laughed. "Race _me_?"

"Sure." I licked my lips; meanwhile, I had aches on both sides, my lungs still burning. "Let's go." I took off, leaving Emmett where he stood.

As much as I hated to admit it, running—the physical activity—helped to clear my mind.

We stopped for lunch before we had to haul ass back to the apartment. We took turns showering and getting ready for work, and then the three of us—Rosalie included—hopped into Emmett's truck to head toward the precinct.

After changing, we'd just made it to roll call with a minute to spare.

Apparently, we had a serial rapist in the neighborhood. He raped some woman in the middle of the night and then another this morning. It was unreal, and it was actually happening in my sector. We had his description, and the four of us—Jasper, Emmett, Black, and me—were sharing our beat with a few other patrolmen.

Since it happened twice—this dude sneaking in via fire escapes, and he's yet to be apprehended—we were to keep our eyes open. A profiler actually came to speak to us, saying it was more than likely someone who'd just been released from the can. Whoever he was had a lot to make up for, going after women in such quick succession.

It made me sick to my stomach, and I parked in front of Bella's apartment building. She wasn't home yet, wouldn't be home until five, but that was okay. I didn't mind keeping a watchful eye on her building. No way.

Black knew what I was doing, and he couldn't fault me for it—admitted that if his girl lived around here, he'd be doing the same.

My location was cool until we were pinged on the radio.

This dude had struck again, two blocks away, no less.

It was un-fucking-real.

While 78 Alpha scoped the streets for him, Black and I went to take the latest victim's statement.

As I'd heard this morning, he entered through the fire escape. With the weather much nicer as of late, he didn't have to do anything but rip the screen. The woman was distraught, but she gave us the same description.

My mind was in ten different places, though.

It was about that time—the time Bella should be getting home. We were two blocks away, and this dude could be anywhere.

_Anywhere . . ._

We had to wait for EMS to come and take her to the hospital, but my leg was bouncing—anxious as fuck to get out of there.

In lieu of following the ambulance, like we were supposed to, I drove to Bella's. Once parked outside, I ran up to her apartment, knocking hard on her door.

Alice answered, wide-eyed and wary, watching me as I searched for my woman. I ran into Bella's bedroom to close her windows, quick to scream at Alice to do the same.

"Where is she?" I asked.

The bathroom door opened, and Bella emerged. She beamed at me, but I couldn't return the sentiment. I had no time to visit, hardly enough time for a decent kiss.

"Listen—" I gulped, my mouth dry "—hold on to this." I reached for my ankle to hand her my off-duty pistol.

Bella put her hand out, stopping me.

"There's a rapist on the loose. He's in this neighborhood—"

"I'll . . ." Alice trailed off, but she'd taken the gun from me.

I stared at Bella, who had no real reaction to my words. "Did you hear what I said?" I palmed her cheek.

"Is it—is it him? Is he out?" she questioned, showing fear.

I shook my head. "It's not James…This guy has brown hair, is about six feet, tattoos on both his arms—mid-twenties . . . I want you two to stay in the living room. He's sneaking in through fire escapes. Stay away from the windows, and you get scared, someone's trying to break in the window…" I looked to Alice. "Pull the fucking trigger. Ask questions later." My heart was pounding away in my chest, and I needed her to agree.

She nodded.

My eyes went back to Bella. "I have to go."

She fisted my shirt.

"Bella…" I placed a soft kiss on her lips. "I'll be back soon. I'll be right downstairs, but neither of you leave—youse stay in the living room."

Bella nodded, her previously happy eyes now empty.

"I don't mean to scare you, but…" I didn't want to admit that I was scared, that I'd go nuts if someone ever tried…if someone even came close to hurting my Bella. "Read, study…I'll be by tonight." I kissed her once more. "In fact, I'll call when I'm on my way. In a bit, I'll drive you guys to my place, or you go to Jasper's…" I was racking my brain for a solution. This dude seemed stuck on this neighborhood, not traveling far between conquests, and it was a million to one chance that he'd head to Morningside Heights next.

"Okay," Bella agreed.

"Good." My lips lingered on her forehead. "I'll be back. Lock the door after me." Once I was on the other side, I didn't move until I heard the dead bolt click into place.

Then I ran into Jasper in the lobby. He was on his way up. We exchanged a few words, and I actually thought he'd berate me for giving Alice my revolver, but he didn't. He thanked me, said that since I was just up there, he'd call Alice instead.

Black and I were held up in the emergency room for close to two hours before the detectives arrived. It was almost eight when we were allowed to leave, and that's when the rapist struck once more. But we had a possible lead this time; it was an assault in progress, possibly our guy, and we all raced to get there.

"Damn…what'd he take, Viagra?" Black asked as we peeled away from the curb.

I gave him a fleeting glance.

"I'm saying…" He put his palms out. "His fourth victim in less than twenty-four hours?"

I raised a brow, knowing he had a point.

McCarty and Whitlock were first on the scene, and they couldn't leave the crying woman. Jasper shouted that her husband, who interrupted and prevented the assault, was actively chasing this guy down Madison, and I sped away—barely hearing the rest of what he was saying. The husband had dark hair, too, but he was wearing blue coveralls. The perp had on dirty jeans and a red t-shirt, same shit he wore last night.

"Lemme out!" Black banged on the dash, and I stopped short.

Jake took off, running and telling the husband to go back home to his wife.

And I saw that douche.

Quite a few RMPs were in pursuit of this guy, along with other cops on foot, and I placed _my_ foot on the gas, hoping I'd head the guy off on 93rd Street.

Still having Black in my sights, I pulled over when he ceased running to catch his breath.

"He went into the park," he shouted. "I lost him!"

"Fuckin' idiot!" I groaned, making the tires screech as I circled the damn playground.

He was nowhere to be found until I heard on the radio that he'd knocked some woman over in the subway.

Police officers flooded the train station, the avenue, and the park . . .

And it seemed as though this guy disappeared without a trace.

"No fucking way!" I cringed, astonished that he got away, was able to go undetected. The streets and the park were both filled with other people, and the best place to hide is in plain sight.

As soon as Black reentered the car, I took off for Bella's again.

I didn't say a word to him.

Sure, it was unfair.

It wasn't his fault, but I was disappointed.

Without making a fuss, Bella and Alice got into the back. My girl looked withdrawn and scared, but she wasn't crying or anything. Given how we'd initially met, I couldn't fault her for being frightened.

Again, I was wary, too.

But I was taking care of that.

Once more, Jasper thanked me for looking out for Alice. It was nothing to me. Bella's been to my place before—albeit one time for about fifteen minutes—but I hoped my messy bedroom didn't give her heart palpitations.

"Don't clean," I teased. "There's food in the fridge. Um…help yourself to anything."

Bella looked around my room.

I turned her chin back to me. "They might ask me to do overtime. If not, I might volunteer, if this guy isn't—"

She nodded. "You won't rest until you find him."

I grinned, wondering if she truly understood me—not knowing if that was a blessing or a curse.

"I hope you guys get him," she whispered. "I don't like not feeling safe, but…anything could happen at any time. There's so many people in this city—"

"Thanks." My tone was sarcastic. "Gotta make me worry about you." I squeezed her, wanting to stay but needing to leave.

By doing this, taking time out to make sure she's safe . . . I wasn't doing what I was supposed to. I wasn't on my beat, where I should be, and . . . God forbid I could have prevented something or caught the guy.

"You don't always have to be the hero," she said, searching my eyes. "It's not your fault...There's not a lot you can do to stop him, like, if he did it again? You can't literally be everywhere at once, and what if he has a weapon?"

"A knife." I nodded. "That's how he's…You're good here. Okay? I—" I wanted to tell Bella that I loved her.

It wasn't the first time I'd wanted to say it, nor was it the first time I almost—instinctually—blurted it out.

It also wasn't the first time the thought of uttering those words made me nervous as well.

Bella let out a short giggle. "I know." She hugged me tight. "We'll be fine. Safe. Go…go so you can come back that much faster."

I kissed her fierce—a lip-lock I never wanted to end—before I ducked out, leaving my heart at my apartment.

* * *

**Thank you for reading**

**Please leave me your thoughts**


	13. Rat Race Part Two

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd**** by ****HollettLA****.**

**HUGE thank you to CaraNo and her buddy! Mwah!**

* * *

**Offbeat**

**Chapter Thirteen: Rat Race Part Two**

_**O**_n our way back to the neighborhood, Central called us over to the house. Our CO—Vasquez—wanted to speak with me.

I rushed back, no questions asked, and I was fast to haul my ass into the captain's office.

As it turns out, he wanted to reprimand me for going off the grid. Honestly, it'd taken less than a half hour to bring Bella to my apartment. I wanted to make a comment about the powdered sugar on his shirt—the leftovers from the donut he'd been shoving down his throat—in lieu of helping his fellow officers find this scumbag.

But I didn't.

I also didn't need a shop-steward, someone from the PBA, as I wouldn't be written up.

Nevertheless, I wasted more time going to the precinct to speak to him than I did taking care of my girl.

Aggravated, I drove around my sector, and I'd asked Black to keep his own commentary to a minimum.

It was around ten p.m. when my partner finally opened his mouth. We'd been driving around, looking for this guy, and I was content to play Emmett's game—hang back while 78 Alpha answered all other calls. McCarty hates being paired with Whitlock for that reason. Jasper never ducks, always responds to dispatch, answering all calls. As senior officer, McCarty really can't say shit to Whitlock, even though he complains all the time.

"We gonna get dinner anytime soon? I'm starvin'," Black grumbled.

I had no idea why this felt personal, why I felt I needed to be the cop to get this fuck. "We're off in a few—you can eat then." We've yet to be asked to stay, and maybe _I_ wouldn't be asked because of all the overtime I've already racked up.

But I have no problems volunteering. Especially since I'll still get paid, and this fucktard needed to be off the streets.

"Can you pull over? We'll park somewhere?" He opened his window all the way.

I nodded, thinking that a reasonable request. "Sure."

"Cullen…I-I'm sorry I wasn't faster before—"

I put my hand up to stop him. "Don't."

"No—"

"We've all lost someone—let a skell get by us. All right?" I quirked a brow. "No need to apologize."

"You seem upset," he whispered. "And I hate the tension…We're supposed to be partners, and…forget it." He left the car, walking toward the corner bodega. "You want something?"

I shook my head, content to listen to the radio—the white noise—as I tried to stay alert. "Coffee!" I'd changed my mind.

Black nodded, disappearing.

The tension he was speaking about is a _me_ thing, as I can be standoffish. It has nothing to do with him. At the moment, I only have one objective in mind: catching this bastard.

_"78 Beta, what's your sixty-one?"_ Central pinged us, wanting to know our status.

I rolled my eyes, thinking Vasquez was trying to keep tabs on me now. "Central, we're 10-98, on 97th and Third. Over." I told them we were resuming patrol.

_"10-2—CO is requesting Officer Black on a rush."_ Vasquez wanted Jake. _"We need a positive ID. Over."_

"The rapist?" Excited, I jumped in my seat.

_"10-4. Over."_

I hopped out of the car. "Black!"

He poked his head out.

"We gotta go—now!" I hurried back to the RMP, and my partner was quick to reenter the car. As soon as he closed his door, I sped off.

Black jerked back with wide eyes. "Take it easy!"

I chuckled, stomping on the gas.

"I was just about to pay, too," he complained.

"You gotta ID that fuck." I rushed out, running the light when shit was clear.

"Whoa…What do you mean?"

I blew out a breath. "Everyone saw you go after him. You and whoever else were close enough, along with those women…you gotta pick him out of a lineup."

"I…I only saw the back of his head."

I slumped my shoulders.

"No, if I saw him again…" Black nodded.

When we arrived at the house, a few detectives accosted him, and I saw two of the victims from today. They sat in the lobby with other officers, and I wanted to call Bella—see how she was doing, but I didn't.

Since it was close to eleven, I just stood around—listening to Officer Sorenson regale others with his tale, how he caught the guy. Actually, the few who were on foot patrol were stopping anyone and everyone that fit the rapist's description.

While I had been taking care of Bella, the sketch composite had been completed and handed out.

I missed that.

That was probably when Vasquez noticed us missing.

I shook Officer Sorenson's hand, both grateful and relieved, although I hoped the right guy was in custody.

When I scoped Black entering the locker room, I followed after him. "How'd it go?" I asked.

He sighed. "I have a good feeling…I recognized him right away. It's not like they can tell me if it's really him or not?" Black chuckled, taking off his belt. "I heard the doc in the E.R before. There was semen present...It's open and shut. That dumb fuck'll be going back to prison...if that profiler was right about him just getting released." He sat on the bench, frowning. "If I caught him—"

"Let it go," I said as I opened my locker. "Let it go."

"Right."

After changing into my civvies and stuffing all my shit into my duffle, I approached Hale, wondering what was up with McCarty and Whitlock. She told me they took a last-minute call—an infamous bar fight.

That…two drunks duking it out on our beat was the only semblance of normalcy today had.

My whole tour consisted of speeding around—whether it was to patrol for the rapist or to care for Bella—and it seemed like the longest race ever...in a maze...and the walls were on fire, and there were huge grizzly bears at every turn wielding Tec-9s or some shit.

It was stressful, and it might be all over . . . God willing.

I was tired, fucking exhausted, and the silver lining?

My girl was at my apartment.

However, I didn't feel comfortable with her leaving until it was confirmed that the man we had in custody was the serial rapist from today.

"Take it easy," I told Black.

He turned to me. "You need a ride?"

Steps away from the bus stop, I thought about it.

"It's no trouble," he said.

"Okay," I agreed.

We hardly spoke, making no conversation as he drove toward my place in his old-ish Toyota.

"Are you…still looking for another apartment?" he asked.

"Yeah…sorry about that other spot. It sounded cool." The last place he approached me with was rented out from under him—before he could go back and inquire.

"I know we're not friends—"

"You find a nice place, lemme know." I shrugged. "It's cool. I got like…maybe two months before I need'a go." Even so, Emmett and Rose won't kick me out. They'll tolerate me until I find some place to live.

Black pulled up to the curb. "Today was . . ."

I patted his shoulder. "It was real." I left the car. "Thanks for the ride."

He saluted me and drove off.

The side of my mouth pulled up, and I shook my head, fast to enter my building.

Meeting Emmett at the academy, we built a rapport, we looked out for one another, and we'd just so happened to be looking for a place.

Being Jasper's partner and whatnot for so long, we grew close. It took a little while to get used to all of his singing, but he's a great guy.

At the end of the day, I don't…

I'm not very outgoing, nor do I ever speak about my life to my fellow officers.

I still looked at Black that way—not like he was my partner—like he was just another cop on my beat.

I'm not a prick either.

Tonight, I gave an inch.

That's enough.

Silver lining, I reminded myself, as I placed my key in the lock.

With a smile, I closed the door behind me to see Alice sitting on our couch. She turned to grin, but it wasn't her usual happy face. Something was wrong.

"Whitlock should be off soon…" I trailed off, my head whipping around for Bella. "Did she leave? Where…?" I walked toward the bedrooms.

"Edward!" Alice popped up, quick to grasp my bicep. "She's in your room."

"Oh." I nodded.

"Wait." Alice was nervous, staring up to me. "Just let Bella finish your room."

I laughed. "She's cleaning?" Feeling the need to stop her, I went for my room again.

"Edward—"

"What?" I turned to her cousin.

Alice huffed, her eyes falling to the floor. "After you left…well, ever since you gave me this." She grabbed my revolver from the coffee table. "When you told us about the rapist? Then she was worried about you going after the rapist…She was okay when you were around, but after you dropped us off and left, and she was out of her element..." She was skirting around something. "She's fine, though."

"O-kay." I took the gun from her.

"She needed something to do—something to occupy her mind. Even if you're here now…Edward, Bella _has to_ finish." She bit her bottom lip.

Confused, I chuckled again. "They caught the guy—might have caught the guy." I didn't know what to say.

"It's done," she said. "She just has to finish cleaning your room—getting things in order. Don't be surprised when the whole room is rearranged." Alice was still frowning, now palming her stomach. "She started with the kitchen. I hope Rosalie won't be too upset."

"The kitchen's McCarty's thing." I furrowed my brow, turning for the hall again.

"Edward." Alice accosted me.

"What's the deal with that—that OCD shit? Is that…?" I didn't even know if I was asking the correct questions. "What happens if I stop her from cleaning?"

"It's just her process—how she handles things, but if you stop her, I mean, she might have to deal with her emotions?" she asked me, or that's what it sounded like.

I rolled my eyes. "I didn't bring her here to tidy up the place—fuck that."

"Um…" She stepped in front of me, stopping me once more. "You know Bella's…weird."

"She's not," I said.

Alice raised a brow. "Edward, come on…I_ know_ you noticed something when you first met her. Maybe you don't see it now…you know? There's…something off about my cousin."

I disagreed. "Look—"

"I know Bella…I know her. She's going to freak out if you stop her—she'll have a full-blown anxiety attack. That's what happens when there's nothing to occupy her mind. I know it happened that day at the zoo…and she told me you were great with her. But, if that happens again…and it'll be much worse this time—" Alice had tears in her eyes "—you'll break up with her, and I have no idea how she'll be after that."

Aggravated again, I massaged my forehead. "What are you talking about?"

All I knew for sure was that Bella was a few feet from me—less than ten and behind a door—and I wanted no distance between us. I wanted to be with my girl.

"When she was around two years old, Bella was diagnosed with Aspergers, but…" she'd brought her voice down "—it was kind of a misdiagnosis."

"Bella had, what?" I shook my head.

Alice walked farther away from the back hall, taking me with her. "She only presented with a few of the main signs, but then over the years…she got better, mainstreamed. When her mother moved from Washington to Arizona, she didn't even put Bella in a special school. Bella was able to catch up to her peers; meanwhile, she was ten times smarter than kids her own age," she laughed. "But…she's still…albeit slightly…on the spectrum."

Alice grabbed my hand. "She's totally normal." She scoffed the last word. "What the fuck is normal anyway? But you get what I'm saying—she's not _different_. She understands sarcasm, and she can look people in the eyes now…They say she's very, very, very high-functioning."

"What?" I still didn't understand. "What spectrum?"

"Autism," she whispered. "But she's not autistic." She blew out a breath. "I'm not making a lot of sense." Alice palmed her face. "She's normal with a few quirks. That's what we call it. She can obviously have relationships, interact…well, sort of. I'm sure you remember how she was when you first met her. Then she grew to be comfortable around you. Edward, when she's with you…my God, she's so much better than she's _ever_ been."

"Autism?" I didn't know much about it at all, although I knew it was some sort of mental impairment.

"No…she's not autistic. Geez. Don't tell Bella I said that. She'll . . ." Alice gulped. "She's got a few quirks. The doctor who'd diagnosed her…I mean, when she was a kid she was just delayed." She nodded, smiling. "But she caught up, went to regular school. We don't treat her any different, except for Charlie. He's obviously overprotective, but there was no talking Bella out of coming here—to New York." She rambled. "You know Bella. She's flirty and funny, and she can be outgoing…but...only when it comes to you."

With a sense of longing, I stared at my bedroom door. "We all have…issues, quirks." I had no idea how to reply.

"Exactly!" Alice was bubbly again. "You understand?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

She pointed to the TV and sat back down on the couch. "I made some popcorn." She showed me the bowl. "I was about to watch a movie—"

"I'm good." Without another word, I opened my bedroom door.

I heard Alice rushing to follow after me, but I'd paused in the doorway.

My bed was on the opposite side of the room. My dresser was where my bed used to be. Bella fixed the sheet I was using as a curtain, and she was currently sitting on the floor with my piles of sheet music.

"Hey," I said.

"Edward just wanted to say hello." Alice stepped in front of me.

Bella nodded, making her body rock as she kept her back to us. "Hello."

I grinned, crouching down at her side to place my hand on hers. "You can stop."

Bella ignored me, continuing her task.

"Edward…" Alice pulled on my shoulder. "Come on. Leave her be."

I shrugged her off, my gaze never leaving Bella. "Hey…" I placed her hair behind her ear.

Bella moved away from my touch. "I can't—"

"You _can_ stop," I said, my hand holding hers.

"No." She jerked away once more.

I looked back to Alice, and she shook her head no.

My eyes found Bella again. "Bella, hey…" I wanted her attention.

When she continued to ignore me, my stomach knotted up, worry and anxiety flowing through me.

Thinking Bella could be sick—that her odd mannerisms were more than quirks—fucking scared me.

"Look at me." I kneeled in front of her, gently placing my hand on her shoulder. "Bella, stop this—" I snatched the sheet music away from her.

She still wouldn't meet my gaze, her fingers now vigorously tapping against the floor. "He doesn't understand. He doesn't understand," she said twice.

"No," Alice answered her.

"Hey…" I carefully palmed Bella's cheek. "We caught the guy. He can't hurt you—there's no way he can. That's—that's_ why_ you can stop." I thought that's what she needed to hear, that'd make it better. "I understand. That's why you _can_ stop." I leaned forward, my nose touching hers.

"I'm not crazy—I know what you're thinking." Tears welled up in her eyes that were focused on my shoulder. "I know."

"I'm not thinking anything." I enveloped her in a tight bear hug, looking back to her cousin, who seemed just as worried. Alice's eyes were wide, and I knew it was because we'd gone off script—I had. I'd thrown a wrench in whatever ways Bella is used to coping with shit.

Truth be told, I didn't know what was up or down. I know nothing of spectrums, what Alice prattled on about.

I didn't know anything, but Bella's behavior in the moment was scaring me.

She needed to stop.

"You're okay." I kissed her hair, and I expected Bella to cry, do something, but she didn't do anything. She just let me hold her, although she was stiff in my embrace.

"Please, Edward," Alice whispered behind me. "Just let her..."

At a loss, my shoulders slumped; I backed away a foot or two, and looked helplessly to Bella.

Automatically, almost like a robot, she continued sorting the sheet music, gathering the pages into a neat pile.

And as the seconds ticked by, it was easy to tell she was calming down further.

That, in and of itself, was a relief to me.

Once she was done, she nodded to herself, and I couldn't stand the distance anymore.

I hugged her again, noting that she was slightly less rigid now. But not completely at ease.

"I can go home now." She went to push me away. "You want me to leave. It's okay—"

"No!" I nearly shouted. "I want you here with me…because—" There were plenty of reasons why I wanted—no, I _needed_ her here, and now I was also stuck. I didn't know what to do. "Only leave if you wanna." I rocked us, hugging her tightly.

"I'm not crazy." Her voice was emotional, and I pulled back to see the tearstains on her cheeks.

"I know that," I whispered, gazing into those eyes. They weren't focused on my own, but . . . "We should try to get some sleep. I bet you're tired. You know?"

Between her studying and worrying about rapists, and it was late, I hoped that with some cuddling and sleep that Bella would wake up and be the usual Bella that I know.

"I have to blow my nose." Bella left me, faster to leave the room.

I chased after her, but then she closed the bathroom door.

"Wow...she's never calmed down so quickly before. Once, I barged in on her when she was close to having an attack, and she started screaming and clawing at herself," Alice said.

My eyes widened; hearing that broke my heart.

"Um..." She grimaced, pushing her hair back. "I only said that so you'd know how bad it _can_ get. It's no big deal, letting her finish whatever task. You know? Millions of people have anxiety disorders, and hers is only secondary to...I mean, it's because of..." Alice just stopped talking.

"What—" I felt like the dumbest fucker on the planet since I had no knowledge of what she was talking about.

Alice nudged my arm. "I bet when she leaves the bathroom, she'll be the Bella from earlier—at least well on her way to the one you know. She just…has her own way of dealing. She's fine," she sighed, going into the living room. "She trusts you, Edward." Alice smiled at me again, but it was placating? Encouraging? "I've never seen my cousin so comfortable with someone who…wasn't family, and she says your mom made her feel safe, too—comfortable. Trust is very important to her," she giggled. "It should be important to us all . . . Don't treat her any different, and don't pretend that all didn't happen in there. You can talk about it." She gestured to my bedroom. "I should call Jazzy—see what he's doing."

I looked at my watch, and I couldn't believe it was only going on midnight. Between hitching a ride and getting off before shift ended . . . meanwhile, that whole ordeal with talking to Alice and then Bella . . . it felt longer than that.

"Don't treat her any differently," Alice said again as an afterthought.

"No…I wouldn't." I stood in the hall, waiting for Bella.

To be honest, if all Bella does when she gets upset is clean…? I mean, I've seen some crazy bitch fits over the years—between my mother and Kate, and even my nieces. Bella's never done any of that. She doesn't cry or bitch me out, like other women in my life do. Bella's strong, an amazing person.

The only time I'd seen her sob was when I was drunk that one night, which seemed like a lifetime ago—the night I snuck into her bed. When I couldn't get over what I'd done, mortified, Bella admitted that . . .

She saw that I was angry and drunk, and she started to cry to calm_ me_ down.

Bella's a fucking genius, too. I have no idea how she knew that would work, but it did.

"We all have issues, like you said."

I nodded, whipping around when Bella opened the bathroom door.

She lingered in there, and I could tell she was afraid, so I stepped forward.

"I was scared before, too," I explained, not wanting her to feel ashamed or whatever.

"I know," she whispered. "You never think about stuff like that. You never think anything like that can ever happen to you…until it does. No one is immune to the messed up things in this world." Bella licked her lips, her eyes finally meeting mine.

"You're right." I smiled because my girl's . . . always right.

"But we can't dwell on those things. If we do, life won't be worth living." She came toward me. "And you have to leave work stuff on the beat." She stared up at me. "You can't save everyone. You need to know that."

I nodded, bending low to nip those lips. "I missed you."

She grinned, reaching to hold my cheek. "You need to shave."

I laughed, agreeing.

"I missed you, too," she said.

Not wanting to tiptoe around anymore, I pulled her into my arms again—reveling in her touch, her body pressed to mine.

In my mind, Bella was perfect, perfect for me, someone who actually understood me.

"Stay here tonight. You don't have school tomorrow." I kissed down her neck.

Bella whimpered a good whimper, tilting her head. "Alice—"

"She can stay, too, but I bet Jazz comes to get her. You trust me, right?"

"I do." Her short response made me smile.

"You'll be cool without Alice for the night...if she decides to leave."

"I don't need Alice for anything. I was just worried about her." She huffed a breath, not looking at me again. "I'm perfectly capable—"

I turned her chin back to me. "Baby..." I peppered her cheek with kisses, and she giggled. "You can do anything—you're capable of doing anything." I shrugged. "But I hope you stay."

"I'm sorry. I'm used to people judging and—"

"I'm not _people_. I'm your boyfriend." I crashed my lips to hers, and Bella became overzealous—her body molding to mine. "Please, stay."

"All right," she agreed.

**Thank you for reading. **

**Please leave me your thoughts.**

* * *

**Some terms you might not be familiar with:**

**CO - Commanding Officer**

**RMP - Their squad car**

**Civvies - Civilian clothes/regular clothes, as officers get changed into their uniforms at the precinct. **

**And when I say, "go back to the house" that means the precinct. **

**Codes:**

**10-61 - status/which assignment, basically inquiring as to what they're doing.**

**10-98 - on patrol but available to take a call/assignment **

**10-2 - return to the precinct**

**10-4 - acknowledgement/agreement **


	14. Here I am

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA. **

**Offbeat**

**Chapter Fourteen: Here I am**

_**S**_ometimes, events conspire to change your life.

A teacher told me that once; I think it was seventh grade. I don't know about the conspiring part. It seems to me that a lot of it is just fate or luck.

But for most people . . . it's a _lack_ of luck.

"Ah…fuck," I groaned, my body stiffening as I held Bella's ass to me tightly. With every buck of her hips, her tits would jiggle, and the look on her face as she rode me . . . "You feel so good, Bella." I sat up, still hugging her close while my lips trailed everywhere.

Bella moaned, tossing her head back, her eyes fluttering to a close.

Her skin was soft, like silk and yet slick with sweat as our bodies rocked together. She was gorgeous, fucking sexy as hell, and her pussy was soaked.

"One more," I mumbled, kissing her deep.

My thumb found her clit to draw circles, and her body trembled, eyes meeting mine.

My breath caught, pulling her onto me faster, harder.

Our momentum continued to build until Bella let out a strangled cry—muted by my mouth. "You like coming on my dick, right?" I bit her jaw, my hands roaming up to her shoulders.

She whimpered in agreement, catching her breath.

"Beautiful…" I palmed her cheek, turning us over so that she was on her back.

Bella clawed at my shoulders, her legs widening even more, and I leaned away—resting back on my calves as I held hers apart. She was open, displayed for me, and the visual—Christ, she was perfect.

I fucked her fast and hard, my cock digging deeper with each stroke until I couldn't take it anymore—until the pleasure of being inside her caused me to explode.

Stiffening as I came, I continued to hold her feet in the air. "Fuck….I love you. I love you. I love you—" Pausing, my breaths still labored, my lips lingered on the arch of her foot. My heart was pumping—threatening to burst through my chest.

Not only because of how hard I came, but because of my words . . .

They just spilled out.

_Fuck me._

Whatever the reason—luck, fate, or lack thereof—it's pretty much true that your life can change with the blink of an eye, no matter which event conspires.

And you _never_ see it coming.

"Um…" I swallowed, my mouth dry as I grasped my dick, making sure I had the condom to pull out.

Bella smiled brightly up to me, reaching to palm my face. "It was _that_ good, huh?"

I furrowed my brow and lay next to her. "No…I mean, yes, it was great." I kissed her shoulder. "But, I-I meant it...what I said." Now my stomach was a knotted mess, but I couldn't take those words back. I did mean them, and I didn't say them just because . . . when we fuck . . . Jesus.

There are _no_ words for that.

"Oh…you did?" Bella's gaze fell away from me.

Confused, I sat up to stare down to her.

Don't women jump for joy when they hear that? Get on the horn and gush to their friends? And if she returned the sentiment, wouldn't she have said it back?

Suddenly, I felt like an idiot.

"Yeah…I meant it." I nodded, watching as Bella left the bed to get dressed.

We were still in my bedroom. Bella didn't have school yesterday, nor does she have class today, but I do have to work. I'll be dropping her off at home before I head to the house. That night, three of the rape victims identified the skell we had in custody, with Black in attendance. They all chose the same one. He was gone—locked away and awaiting trial. As it turned out, the profiler was correct. He'd been locked away for years, for the same crime, and he was just out four days. Fucko lasted four days until he went on a spree, and that's some sick shit.

Yesterday, I called out sick just to play hooky with my girl. We went for lunch. I gave her a private concert on my keyboard after dinner, and then we watched a movie. It was a calm day, a relaxing one, and Bella's anxiety ebbed—stayed away.

Nothing was amiss.

We both needed a day to relax.

Everything was going great, it seemed, until I uttered those words . . . words that I believe might have just changed my life.

This is new to me. It's all new to me, and I didn't know how…to proceed.

"It's okay if you don't…feel the same." I pulled my boxers back on.

Bella stepped into her sweats, staring at the floor.

"Bella?" Afraid I might have upset her, I grabbed her hand. "It's no big deal—"

"It's a _huge_ deal." She rasped, quick to clear her throat. "I've loved you…for a long time. I just never expected you to love me back."

"What?" I beamed, my arms enveloping her in a tight hug. "You love me." And I think a large part of me has known that for quite some time.

"Yes." She nodded, stepping back. "I thought…" She was quiet for a beat too long, and Bella never holds out on me.

"You thought?" I prompted.

She pushed out of my embrace to plop onto the bed, and she remained silent while she placed her hair into a ponytail.

"Bella…" I sat next to her, holding her hand. "We can just—" I wanted to pretend I didn't say anything.

For whatever reason, I didn't feel embarrassed, just sad? A little stupid?

"You can't take it back," she whispered. "I can't take it back either because it's the truth. I do love you, Edward."

I chuckled and kissed her cheek. "I—Bella, I love you, too."

She quickly became my best friend before we started dating, started kissing the way she kisses me, before we'd had sex.

"I wanted to save you, like you saved me." Her eyes whipped up to mine. "You seemed lost...a lonely, lost hero."

I didn't know how to reply to that.

"I thought we'd date, and then when we broke up, I'd be heartbroken but it'd be _my_ problem."

I shook my head. "What are you talking about?"

She stood up to scoop her sneakers on. "I have a plan—to finish school and get my master's. You…might want to get married and have babies, and I can't."

"Whoa!" I shouted, her words scaring me again, but it was also funny. "I'm…nowhere near ready to get married and have babies. Just like you…well, no. Bella, I _didn't_ plan anything, but if one day…" Once more, I didn't know how to continue.

"But I do have a plan." She placed her hand on her chest.

I nodded. "And you go by the book…just like I do with certain things." I shrugged, at a loss. "I can't predict the future…" It was only when Bella shot it down that I actually thought about it—the future, marriage, babies, and the whole nine. "Getting married, starting a family…that's a long way off. You're twenty. I'm twenty-three. This is just as new to me." I sat back down, placing my hands on my knees.

"But why couldn't you do both?" I asked. "You finish school. You get whichever million degrees you want, and I'll be along for the ride, and then…later on…Why couldn't you get married or have a child?"

She folded her arms across her chest to stare out the window. "If we have a child…there's a chance he or she could be like me."

I barely heard her, and now her words angered me, but I meant what I said—marriage and things like that are way off since I'd never given them any real thought either.

"So, what if our child is like you?" The distance between us was killing me once again, and I reached for her hand. Bella didn't protest, standing rigid between my thighs. "Bella, you're wonderful." I placed a kiss on her stomach. "You're gorgeous and smart—"

"You don't understand." She was wrong.

"I do…" _I_ still couldn't see anything wrong with my Bella. She had a bad time two nights ago, and she's been her regular self since. "The other night…you were allowed to be upset, especially after what you—yourself—have gone through. Most other chicks would have been distraught, but not you. You cleaned up the place." I widened my arms, smiling. "It wasn't necessary, but it also wasn't a big deal."

"Your ignorance is sweet." She held my face.

"My ignorance?" I quirked a brow.

She gulped, her shoulders drooping and her face falling.

"Why am I not allowed to love you?" I stood up, nuzzling my nose to hers. "What's so bad about it?" Loving Bella has been the most exciting, most exhilarating, and the most satisfying adventure I've ever been on. She drives me crazy, and…I love her, and I don't know what the future holds, but I do hope she's there—in it.

Bella grinned. "Nothing…I'm worried about nothing. We're young. All that stuff…"

"It's far away," I said, my hands roaming down to her ass. "I love you."

She smiled wide, giggling and burying her head into my chest. Then she sighed as her eyes met mine. "I love you, too."

"Good." I rubbed her back, feeling relief wash over me. "Good." A weight had been lifted from my shoulders. "Wanna get some lunch before I take you home?" I nipped those lips.

"I'm not hungry, but . . ." She bent low to kiss me deeply. Our tongues tangled as I collapsed back with her in my arms.

My hands explored her curves, a grunt escaping me. "What'd'ju get dressed for?" I murmured into her mouth.

She giggled, rolling over to pull me on top of her. "So, you could undress me . . . again."

I nodded, smiling wide. "I don't mind…not one bit." I nibbled her earlobe, eliciting this sexy moan that drove me wild. She wrapped her legs around my hips, and I pushed against her.

"I love you," she breathed.

I leaned back to pull her top off. "Good."

Landing a loud smooch on those lips, I paused to lie at her side, gathering her into my arms, and I didn't want to let her go.

/=/=/=/=/

My sector was the same as it's always been. As we patrolled the streets, it was almost as though the other day never happened—that there had never been a serial rapist on the loose. I booked two drunks and a dude with a mean right hook who was involved with a domestic disturbance—all before seven p.m.

There were no surprises, nothing.

It felt good, having shit go back to normal.

"What's up with you?" Whitlock grabbed his food from the counter. With some downtime, we just so happened to be at the Chinese spot for dinner.

"Nothing." I opened my can of soda, quick to take a sip.

When my food was ready, I grabbed it and turned for the table. Whitlock followed, and I felt his eyes on me. "What?" I asked.

He smirked. "What's different about you?"

My eyes widened, and I continued to smile. "Nothing."

"Bullshit," he hissed.

"What's bullshit?" McCarty laughed.

I ignored them both, taking a seat near Black, which was shocking.

"Oh, I get it." McCarty nudged Whitlock. "Cullen and his boo-boo were holed up all day yesterday and then today." He punched the air, and that angered me. "All that pussy…" He whistled.

"Fuck you!" I snapped.

Pussy is pussy, and on the regular I'd be down to speak of such things, but talking about Bella's pussy? I was heated.

"What the fuck?" McCarty grilled me.

"Keep your mouth shut," I warned.

"Dude—" Black massaged my shoulder "—take it easy."

My body was still stiff, angry for reasons unknown to me, and I wasn't hungry anymore.

Without another word, I left the table to throw my dinner into the trash can.

Then I left the restaurant.

As the seconds ticked by, I calmed down, and I just so happened to be in front of Bella's building.

Nevertheless, I wasn't going to disturb her. I had to keep myself in check. Just because it's easy to see her during my tour doesn't mean I should. She'd distract me, and thinking of that made me smile.

Bella's grin, her giggle, her kisses—her.

My happiness disappeared quickly while . . . confusion set in.

Bella was controlling my life again.

Everything I wanted to do included her in some way.

Who was I?

What was I doing?

"Hey…" Whitlock pushed me, and I whipped around to raise my fist. "Chill." He grabbed onto my shirt and gave me a shake. "What's up with you?"

I groaned, taking off my hat to mess my hair. "I don't know."

He chuckled. "Oh..." He had that knowing tone, like McCarty did minutes prior. "Cullen's been bitten by the love bug."

"Shut up."

"Just go with the flow, bro. Shit isn't that serious, but good for you." Whitlock nodded, bopping his head while his foot tapped against the concrete—creating a rhythm.

I rolled my eyes, knowing he was about to break out in song, but before I went back to my RMP, I peeped him ring Bella's bell. "Leave 'em alone. We're—"

_"Yeah?_" Alice asked.

Whitlock was still dancing, and now his finger was pressed on the intercom. "Spending my day...thinkin' 'bout you, girl," he sang, and it wasn't his usual muted voice. "Being here with you, being near with you…I can't explain myself," Whitlock belted that shit out. "Why I feel like I do…Though it hurts me so…to let you know that I look in your eyes...to let me know how you feel…"

A small crowd was gathering as they all watched him, and that's when I noticed both Alice and Bella were hanging out their living room window.

"Let me know that love is really real. And it seems to me…that I'm wrapped up in your love." Whitlock blew a kiss up to Alice, and she squealed, stars in her eyes.

I caught Bella's gaze with my own, and I lifted my hand in greeting.

"Hey—" the owner of the Chinese restaurant flagged me with a white rag "—frash'a mob?" His accent was thick, and I didn't catch that.

"Hey, ah-ha, ah, ah, ah, ah…" Whitlock was getting down, putting some soul into that shit. "Hey, ah-ha. Don't you know that I'm still in love, in love with you…Sho' 'nuff in love with you…Say I try it if you want me to. Ah-ha, ah-ha, aah, ah, ah, ah!" He ended with a chuckle, staring up to their apartment.

"Frash'a mob?" that dude asked again.

"Huh?" I shook my head.

"Flash mob." Black chuckled, sidling up to me. "No…Officer Whitlock just…likes to sing?" He looked to me.

I shrugged, leaning back on the RMP. "Your tax dollars at work."

"That was awesome!" Alice shouted.

Whitlock blew her another kiss.

"Encore!" Alice used her fingers to whistle.

I winced, hoping he wouldn't, my eyes finding Bella again.

"Love you." She mouthed.

Sighing through a smile, I placed my hand on my heart—a silent declaration.

No matter my confusion, my feelings were still my feelings.

Nothing had changed from earlier.

"I get it." Black was staring up, too, and it seemed like everyone understands me but me; however, Jake wasn't talking about me. "I know McCarty wasn't being a prick, though." As if he heard his name, Emmett came strolling out of the restaurant.

"What's all this?" He looked around to the few pedestrians on the sidewalk and then to Jasper. "You singin' again?" McCarty grimaced, hauling ass back to his car. "Let's go. We got police work to do!"

Whitlock took off his hat to bow, and then he took off, throwing me a wink before he entered his squad.

"Let Central know we're 10-98," I told Black, waiting for him to walk away.

Once he was gone, I just smiled up to Bella—not sure what to say, or if anything needed to be said.

She was actually first to leave, giving me a small wave before closing her window.

_Huh..._

/=/=/=/=/

Toward the end of our shift, 78 Alpha requested backup, and we were fast to respond.

Whitlock and McCarty were searching a small group of young guys who sat on a stoop—three men to be exact, and I wondered why they needed backup.

But then I saw Whitlock just standing off to the side, the position of their RMP, half on the sidewalk, and McCarty was driving . . . This was his bust, busting up their little party. The bottles of Heineken resting on the steps weren't concealed, their boom box blasting some hip-hop.

When I approached, I turned the music off. "Go." I jerked my head, telling Black to help McCarty. "What's this?" I asked Jasper.

He just shook his head, extending his hand, gesturing and speechless. It was obvious he didn't agree with his partner.

Truth be told, whenever we'd roll together and see a scene like this, we'd tell whoever to pack it up and move on—disperse and go home. It's Friday night, damn near summer. Hell, if I had friends and no air conditioner, I'd likely find myself doing the same thing on weekends.

"Racist, no-neck prick!" one shouted at McCarty.

Emmett cackled as he continued to pat the perp down. "Oh…what's this?" He showed us a Ziplock bag with weed in it.

"It's just a little bud, man." The kid complained. "If I was white, smoking a joint—"

"This look like a joint?" McCarty shoved the bag in his face. "This looks like possession with intent to distribute, right, Black?"

"That's not my name." The perp, who _was_ black, turned to face him.

"Hands behind your head!" McCarty shouted. "And I was speaking to _Officer_ Black."

"Nice to meet you." Black patted that dude's back, quickly going back over to his friend to search him.

"You believe this?" Whitlock whispered.

I didn't reply.

The guys were calm, none looked like flight risks, and so I was content to stand back—stand by in case either officer needed anything.

"Oh, shit!" Black shouted, pulling a .45 from his perp's ankle.

"Now _that's_ interesting." Whitlock stepped forward.

I placed my hand on my holster, ready to draw if need be.

"Who else is packin'?" Whitlock asked.

No one answered him.

"Where'd you get this?" Jasper asked the kid. "Tell me where I can get one, and I'll see what I can do for you."

"I ain't tellin' you shit!"

Whitlock nodded. "All right . . ." And he continued to handcuff him, reciting his Miranda rights.

In the end, we wound up bringing all three men back to the house. The one we had in the back wasn't under formal arrest. He hadn't done anything except chill with two dudes—one who had a gun and one who had the pot—but the four of us wanted to know where the heat came from, possibly where they got the weed.

Arms, drug dealers on our turf . . . hey, we wanna know.

And all of us love a good bust.

Believe it or not, we did nothing wrong. The beer bottles provided enough probable cause to search them—loitering in front of a building that they didn't live in.

The arrest was by the book, even hauling this dude in just to let him go in a few hours.

"We didn't do nothin', man!" The one with empty pockets bitched behind us. His name was Kenny, and he's only seventeen, which—in the state of New York—makes him an adult. "We were just chillin'."

"With illegal narcotics and a gun." Black chuckled, staring back to him.

"Level with us," I said. "Those are your friends, right? Tell us where we can get more of what you got, and we'll see what we can do."

"Fuck you. I didn't do nothing. Youse can't pin shit on me—"

I smirked in my rearview. "You were resisting arrest—"

"Hell no!" he hollered.

"Yeah, this kid was pretty hostile." Black winced, blowing a kiss back to Kenny. "A young stud like you—the bastards at Rikers are gonna _love_ you."

"You're a fuckin' sellout!" he shouted at Jake. "Whatta you, a 'Rican? Youse a man'a color, and you're siding with _the man_—"

I threw my head back to laugh.

But Black had nothing to say back. He actually fastened his seatbelt. "Waffle," he said.

The smile stayed on my face as I sped up only to stop short, making Kenny's face slam into the fenced partition. "Fuck! You did that on purpose."

"You didn't see that dog?" I pointed, turning left toward the station. "Last chance…" It was a bluff.

Kenny groaned. "Weed's a cultural thing and this city would be so much better if we didn't have bigoted cops—fucking pigs running the streets!" he ranted.

"It's not a cultural thing," Black laughed. "Until congress passes some new laws in New York, marijuana's still an illegal narcotic—do-rags and rap are cultural things. You gonna tell me that gat had something to do with your heritage, too?" he spoke of the gun.

"One day…me and my peoples…we're gonna rise up against_ the man. _You hear me?" Kenny was talking to me. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't going to give him the _rise_ he sought.

"And we'll be there to smack ya's back down," Black said. "Just for the record, I'm not Hispanic. I'm Native American, and if you wanna go blow for blow—to see whose 'peoples' had it worse, I'm all ears."

I nodded, reaching over to give Jake a fist pound. That was awesome, I thought.

Kenny sucked his teeth. "What'chu wanna know, man?"

"Where'd you get the gun?" I asked.

"'S'not mine, all right? Did you find it on me?" He snapped.

"Where'd your friend get the gun?" I reiterated.

"My boy Zero…he live on 99th Street and Third."

"What's his real name?" Black inquired, scribbling shit in his notepad.

Kenny was quiet again.

Since the street was clear, I quickly made a U-turn. "You're gonna show us where he lives."

"Fuck." Kenny slumped low in his seat. "You gotta do this with me? Drop me off at lock-up first."

"Show us where he lives, and I'll take the cuffs off…let you go." I smiled.

"For real?" he sat up, leaning to the front.

I nodded. "You have my word."

"We're not bringing him in?" Black asked, his tone laced with surprise.

"Well, we'll see." I shrugged. "What's this Zero's real name?"

Kenny was quiet again, but I waited as I drove along the streets—toward 99th.

"What was that?" I cupped my ear.

"Mark Houston," he whispered. "He lives in the building on the corner—first floor. I don't' know much else about him. He sells nines and forty-fives—keeps them in a trunk in his closet. Lives with his moms . . ."

When we drove past that corner, Kenny disappeared to the floor, but he pointed out the building. Black was jotting everything down, and I was fast to drive back to where we picked Kenny up.

"This is what's gonna happen," I started. "I know your name. I know your address. If this Mark doesn't pan out like you say it will, I'll be coming back—looking for you, and I promise to make your life miserable. You won't be able to breathe without my partner and me rolling up on you."

"I ain't lyin' . . . but I don't know him like that. I told you what I know."

"You know where he gets those pieces?" I asked.

"Nah…Yo, can you drop me at the park so no one sees me?"

I nodded, thinking that a reasonable request, and then I pulled up to the playground. Black left the car to grab his cuffs, bidding Kenny a good night.

"That was cool," he told me, reentering the RMP.

"Yeah…we gotta run that Zero kid's name, see if he got any priors, shit like that."

"We're not giving this to the DTs?" He sounded surprised.

"No way. That's our tip—fuck the detectives. We'll get props from bringing in something that big. And you made a friend in Kenny. I bet he'll cooperate from now on. You'll see," I explained, since Black hasn't been on the streets for that long. He was on foot patrol and then pushing paperwork at the precinct. "No one gives a fuck about pot, but guns?" I pursed my lips. "I'd rather we were the only ones holding on our beat. Don't you agree?"

"Fuck, yeah, I do." He chuckled.

Without any reports to fill out, we were off on time, and I hurried to leave the station. On my way out, Vasquez asked me how I was feeling, because I'd called out sick. Faking, trying to sound a little stuffed up, wasn't difficult, and he kept his distance—didn't wanna catch whatever I had.

Knowing I'd see Whitlock back at Bella's, I didn't seek him out before I left.

But McCarty ran to catch up to me. "What was that before?"

I shrugged, and I had no idea what to say. "That's my girl. She's not some pussy—"

He smirked, punching my bicep. "I meant no disrespect."

"I know," I agreed.

"So, that's your girl now, huh? You love her and shit?"

I didn't feel the need to confirm.

"We cool, though?" He put his hand out.

I shook it. "Yeah…we're cool."

"I asked Vasquez if we could switch—me and you. Let Whitlock ride with Black. As senior officer, he should get the rookie anyway. What's right is right. Even Rosie agrees with me. I hope you don't mind . . . I mean, me and you, we could have some fun." He nudged me again, and his idea of good policing is arresting everyone, and I do not agree.

I puffed my cheeks, shaking my head no, but I was a little put out—Emmett going to the captain without speaking to me first. "What'd he say?"

"He bitched, saying I was tryin'a tell him what to do, but he knows I'm right. He said he'll think about it . . ." He pushed his hair back. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah…" I gave him a fist pound and then turned toward Bella's.

A block away from her apartment, my cell vibrated in my pocket. It was my mother, and since I was surprised to hear from her so late, I picked up right away. "What's up?"

_"Hey, honey…"_ She sounded like she was crying. _"Um…Grandpa's gone."_ Mom started to sob.

I paused, my heart sinking, although I knew this was coming. "I'll, um…I'll be right over."

_"No."_ She sniffled._ "I'm still at the hospital . . . Dad's gonna give me a lift home."_

Shocked, my brows rose, and I didn't know what was more surprising—that Carlisle was with her, or that he had a set of wheels. "Carlisle's with you?"

_"Uh-huh. I'm so sorry, baby…I know how close you were, but it was his time."_ She was trying to soothe me, and I was fine . . . I think.

It wasn't the time to say this, but the words were on the tip of my tongue. "Don't let Carlisle try to weasel back in now…now that you're vulnerable and upset—"

_"Edward Anthony,"_ she chastised in a whisper.

"Mom…just stay there. I can be there in fifteen minutes."

"Baby, if you wanna come to the house, I'm not stopping you," she cried. "We're leaving the hospital now, though."

I gulped, my mouth dry.

_"You should get some sleep—come by in the morning? We have to make arrangements. You know?"_ she asked, sounding hopeful—of all things.

"I'll see you in the morning," I said.

_"I love you, baby."_

"Yeah…" I nodded, ending the call.

And I was suddenly furious; I almost threw my cell into the street, but I didn't.

My feet carried me even faster to Bella's. I sent her a text when I was downstairs in lieu of ringing the bell, and she buzzed me in quick after I confirmed it was me.

She met me at the door, and I hurried to enter her apartment—thinking I'd somehow feel better once I was inside.

But that didn't happen.

My muscles were coiled, my stomach a knotted mess, and I tried to smile at her—tried to be happy, and I'd only been here ten seconds.

"What's the matter?" she asked, grasping my hand.

I chuckled and inhaled deeply through my nose. "My grandfather's dead—my mom just called." I stared down to my phone.

"Oh…" She rubbed up my bicep. "That sucks…but you knew he was going to die." Bella doesn't mince words, and I appreciated that.

"You're right."

"He's—I'd like to believe he's in a better place, like my mother's in a better place. Like…whatever their heavens were." Her leg bounced, and she was fidgeting where she sat.

My shoulders dropped and I plopped down next to her, placing my hand on her thigh. "I'm sorry if I made you think about your mother—"

She placed her hand over my mouth. "Don't. With time comes healing. I often think about my mother. Only now…it doesn't hurt as much."

"Yeah…" I cleared my throat. "Carlisle was there…like a vulture, there to pick the bones. He's gonna be surprised as all fuck when he finds out the old man ain't loaded anymore!" I laughed out loud.

Bella hummed, munching on her thumbnail, that foot tapping.

And that calmed me in a way, worrying about her.

"I'm upsetting you," I whispered, pushing her hair away from her shoulder.

She shook her head. "I don't know what to say…to make you feel better, although there's nothing anyone can say that'll make it all better. Death hurts the living…and lack of words makes me uncomfortable."

I grinned, thinking the blush that crept up on her cheeks adorable.

"But I don't have to say anything," she sighed, staring at me. "You talk; I'll listen." Bella still seemed wary, a crease forming between her brows.

I exhaled and closed my eyes, and I wasn't so much . . . sad as I was pissed, thinking about my father being a fucking snake, worrying about his presence, and I wasn't there.

While I truly wanted to stay near Bella, I had this uncontrollable urge to go to my mother's house—look out for her.

"I should go…" I massaged her shoulder. "My mother—"

Bella disagreed. "She just lost her father, and you won't be able to be there _for_ her without confronting _your_ father. Esme doesn't need that. Go because…you want to be supportive, not because you're angry." She hugged my middle. "I had to say that—I couldn't keep that in." She squeezed me.

I rubbed her back, knowing she was absolutely correct. "Take a shower with me."

She lifted her head to grin. "You don't need that either."

I showed her my palms. "No funny business."

"That's what you always say," she giggled.

"I know." I kissed her cheek.

**Thank you for reading. **

**Please leave me your thoughts. **


	15. One

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd**** by ****HollettLA**

***Note* I know many of you were curious as to what might have happened to the rapist. You might continue to be curious about those they arrest - their heinous crimes, and those crimes not too serious. However, Edward, Jasper, Jake, Emmett, and even Rosalie . . . While Rosalie Hale has recently gotten a promotion (which happened behind the scenes. She's more a supervisor/paper pusher due to her pregnancy) **

**They are patrolmen. The apprehend, haul 'em in. They do their jobs, protecting their beat. Meanwhile, they do not follow the chain of custody/command. There will be situations where they'll arrest whoever, but you won't see the END RESULT. **

**They are cops, patrolmen. **

**Offbeat**

**Chapter Fifteen: One**

They say if you have more than one of something, it makes you a collector.

I guess that makes me a professional.

Woke up one morning, and . . . I don't know how it happened. How I'd gone from owning one pair of sneakers to twelve. How I'd gone from having one jacket to seven in all different styles. How I was given one book of sheet music to accruing piles and piles—from having one drawer for boxers and socks, underwear, to needing two in my dresser.

I just don't seem to be able to throw anything away.

I guess I'm not that comfortable with change.

Or, more importantly, I'm not comfortable with throwing something away that I might need one day.

Being piss-poor as a kid, never having anything. My father coming and going—changing one day to the next, being nice to my mother to beating the hell out of her twenty-four hours later. My parents going back and forth, Katie and her husband moving in, them moving out with a kid, and then Mom and I were alone.

So much change.

I thought getting my own place, getting a steady—a _good_ job—would change all that.

Growing up and whatnot . . .

However, no matter what, I still hang on to stuff—meaningless junk at that.

I realize that I should clear all the clutter, but it's hard . . . trying to figure out what's important or what's truly garbage.

Yesterday morning, Bella and I went over to my mother's. My father was nowhere in sight—for which I was grateful—and we helped with making the arrangements. Money-wise, it's all taken care off because of my grandfather's benefits. There wasn't much to settle, and in a little while, I'm to stop at the funeral home to drop off my grandfather's dress blues.

When I placed his suit in my closet, Bella had wide-eyes, staring at the mess inside.

What I didn't expect was to wake up this morning and find her sorting through it all. I managed to sleep while she moved my things around.

She was all neat and quiet, organizing shit, like a sneak.

It was a comical sight.

Again, it was unnecessary but not wrong—per se.

And it's not like I have anything to hide in there.

Wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I sat up in bed, swinging my legs over. "Can you come here?" I patted the spot next to me, wondering if this was another one of those _things_, or some project she started because she was bored.

Bella wouldn't look at me. "Can you tell me what you wanna keep? Some of this stuff—" she grimaced, lifting a pair of kicks that have seen better days "—is so old, useless."

Suddenly feeling exhausted—as tired as those sneakers—I collapsed back down.

And Bella felt the need to explain. "You're going to be moving soon—you're gonna have to go through this stuff. I just wanted to help."

"I know," I whispered.

A large part of me couldn't care less, but only because I didn't want to deal with it.

"Throw it all out," I sighed, covering my face with a pillow.

"You don't mean that," she said, and I heard the distress in her tone. "Have you found another apartment yet, or…?"

Having no answer, I shrugged, inhaling her scent that was left on the pillow.

It smelled like her shampoo—like Bella.

She chuckled. "I don't know how you can…just relax when you don't even know where you'll be living in a few weeks."

I rolled my eyes, but she couldn't see, and then I sat up again to face her. "I'm not gettin' kicked out. There's nothing to worry about."

"It's irresponsible." She clutched an old flannel shirt to her chest, her knuckles white as if she was about to tear the fabric. "You're procrastinating, and you shouldn't do that. Ignoring problems doesn't make them go away."

I smiled. "Bella—"

"They're having a baby," she whispered, making sure McCarty and Hale couldn't hear her. "You're going to place them in a tight spot by not moving."

"Black is looking for a place. I have a down payment ready…" I didn't know what else to say. "Worst comes to worse, I'll rent a room somewhere for a few weeks." It wouldn't be the _worst_ thing either way.

She nodded. "You could stay with me, too, and I know that _you_ knew _I_ would suggest that. That might be what you want deep down anyway—to live with me so we could settle down. But, while I'll love your company, I'm not ready for that. And then there will be a real awkward conversation after _that_—one you'll take the wrong way. You'll think I don't love you when that's not it at all. You'll think my wanting us to live separately is me shunning you, when that'll be the furthest from the truth."

"Whoa—"

She spoke over me. "I'm going to be leaving soon—for Forks to visit my dad for a few weeks. Alice is coming with me, and Jasper's going to come out for a week, but then you'll be all alone. You're going to be here with no one to come home to, no one to look out for you." Her gaze whipped to mine. "I'm monologue-ing."

I furrowed my brow. "Is that what's really bothering you? Missing—worrying about me?" The last time I checked, my grandfather died, not hers. I didn't understand why _she_ was upset, going from one subject to the next so fast.

"Conversations...depending on who has the issues or something to say, should be seventy percent—" she gestured to me "—and thirty percent—" she touched her chest "—but you're not even providing ten percent."

Worried myself, I grabbed my cell phone. "You want me to call Alice?"

Bella groaned and she threw that shirt at me. "No! I want you to talk—goddammit!"

At a loss for words, I reached for her hand and pulled her into my lap to hug her tight. "Shhh." I rocked us and placed my lips to her cheek. "What do you want me to say? What's_ really_ bothering you?"

She was stiff in the embrace.

"Baby…" My fingers crawled up her side. "My grandfather died—that sucks. I have the money for a new place, but I haven't found one, and I have more than a month to find one. My vacation isn't until July . . . and you'll be back by then. And, last time I checked, I didn't need anyone to look out for me."

"You're wrong." She squeezed my middle. "And you can switch, request the week off."

"You're going to miss me," I said, thinking that might be her true problem.

"Of course," she whispered.

"I'm going to be here when you get back. I promise." I nibbled on her earlobe. "I'm going to miss you, too." In fact, this was another one of those times where I hadn't thought of something until she brought it up. The last time she spoke of visiting her father was weeks ago—more than a month ago. "You could always . . . stay, and _we_ can go together . . . in July?" I didn't know what I was saying, just throwing it out there because there was no way she'd change her plans anyway.

Bella lifted her head from my lap. "I thought of that."

"And…?" I asked.

Bella munched on her thumbnail and her leg bounced, which meant she didn't have a reply.

"Look at me." I turned to face her head on. "In life…we don't need every answer, you know?"

She smiled at me. "You always do—well, sometimes. When you don't know what to say, you spout any proverbial bullshit you can think up that might relate to the subject. I appreciate you trying to make me more comfortable, but, sometimes, awkward pregnant pauses can't be avoided." The picture of calm, she left me to sort through some more of that junk in my closet.

For the first time ever, I was annoyed with her and her blunt honesty. "Stop touching my shit—just leave it. I don't wanna throw anything out."

Bella was quiet, delicately placing her palm to the neat piles she'd already constructed—like she was counting them. "You're angry with me. You're angry—"

"I'm not." I stiffened, and I didn't know why I tried to deny it.

"I made you see truths to your life you didn't want to—you didn't want to." She was talking at me again. "You're immature, living day-to-day, and you need to take responsibility and not procrastinate—"

"Yo!" I stood up, anger flowing through me. "I didn't grow up the way you did. I didn't have the childhood—"

"Save that 'I pulled myself up from my bootstraps' shit for someone else!" She yelled at me, and I was shocked into silence. "My childhood wasn't ideal either, but I grew up!" she shouted. "People calling me a retard, and then the only person who knew I wasn't—my mother—died!" She was crying now, which softened me, like it always does.

"Bella, you know that's not true—what some stupid kids say!"

"No!" She pushed my hand away. "At least both your parents are still alive—Carlisle didn't die, and you're so set on being mad at him, not forgiving him. It bothers me. I can't imagine either of my parents ever doing something I couldn't forgive. Carlisle is trying—"

I inhaled deeply through my nose, my eyes closing. "Bella, you don't know. You have _no_ idea—"

"Because you won't tell me!" she barked. "You never tell me anything!"

Honestly, I didn't even know what the problem was anymore—was she worried about missing me when she goes to Washington? Does she hate my closet? My procrastinating ass? Or, that I have problems with my father?

"Why are we fighting?" I asked.

She turned to kick the stuff on the floor, making more of a mess—having a bitch fit like Kate would on the third day of her period. I'd seen too many scenes like this one growing up.

Fueled by frustration and anger, Bella trashed what she'd cleaned.

"That's right." I kicked some shit, too. "Fuck it. It's just junk!"

Bella whimpered, picking up some crap to throw it around. When all my clothes were successfully scattered, she turned to catch her breath. "You want me to go . . . I'll go."

"No…" I said that shit slowly but surely.

Bella licked her lips. "I'm—I'm calm now." She huffed, checking her pulse on her neck. "My chest doesn't hurt."

I furrowed my brow, and I was relaxed, too—the past thirty minutes having thrown me for a loop. "Why would your chest hurt?" I thought better. "Get over here." I pulled her into my arms again. "You need to talk to me right now, Bella. You need to tell me what's up, okay? Don't hold back on me . . . What's _really_ bothering you? Like...where is all this coming from?" I placed a smooch on her cheek.

"I wish I was more like you, and that you were more like me." She looked away from me, yanking on her hair.

"Cut it out." I made her let go. "How 'bout…I have to be at the funeral home by one thirty, before I take you home and go to work…For the time being, why don't _we_ clean…or, you tell me how you want it, and we'll talk?" Still confused, I replayed that jumbled sentence in my head to see if it made sense.

"You're working today?" she asked, but before I could confirm, she kept talking. "I want you to talk more and tell me things. You're…too okay for someone who just lost a loved one. You're keeping it all inside, and I wanna help you. But I don't know how…not unless you face the things going on in your reality. I can't help you, if you—yourself—don't see any problems."

I nodded. "The department only gives one day for grandparents. I have to take Wednesday off—" which is two days from now "—for the mass and burial." I planned to go to the wake and take lost time tomorrow, attend both and work half my shift.

My grandfather having been a celebrated chief, even Vasquez was going to attend his services. They understood. "As far as others things go…Bella, since I was a kid, I live day-to-day—hand-to-mouth. I don't know any other way. I won't go nuts, worrying about things, or in this case, a place to stay until I have _no place_ to go, although I'm working on it—in the background. Going to Washington?" I turned her chin to kiss her forehead. "I don't have any time off during the weeks you plan on being there. And while flying scares me," I laughed, "because I've never ridden in a plane, I'll go with you the week that I do have off. If by some chance…I mean, if you still plan on going, we'll talk every day. We'll text as many times as you want."

I tickled her side to see her smile. "I'll miss you like crazy, but I don't plan on going anywhere. I love you…" And since I do love her, she's just another reason I have to be more careful—having something to lose. "You could also give Hale instructions, make a list, so she knows how to care for me," I teased.

"I didn't have an anxiety attack," she said.

"I know." I hugged her tightly. "You did good. You got angry, and that was sexy." I bit the skin just under her ear, which made her squeal. "The shit with my grandfather?" I gazed into those eyes, nearly forgetting my thoughts. "Like you said the other night. I knew it was coming. He had a long life, and he treated me well, almost like I was his own son. He'll be missed…but he was gone, suffered from Alzheimer's for years now. If you knew him—when he was alive and well—it'd be easy for you to see how his death was probably better for him, than him…living the way he was." I didn't know what else to say about it. "And Carlisle puts on a nice act. I've forgiven him too many times, all for him to let me down again."

"He seems to be trying now." She wove her fingers into my hair. "Why won't you tell me about him? What he's done that's unforgivable?"

I sighed, leaning into her touch. "It's complicated, but thank you for caring."

"What if you meet someone while I'm away?" she whispered.

"I won't," I said. "I'm not exactly…Mr. Charming and Charismatic, nor am I the kind of guy who'd do you dirty. I'll probably get so sad, I'll cry." I jutted my lower lip out. "And this place…if I'm still living here, it'll be…more of a mess 'cause I'm a slob. I love you, Bella. You need to know that, believe that, and trust me." Once more, I thought about the alternative—Bella meeting someone, but then I dismissed that.

And then I thought of it again.

It'd be just my luck, falling in love only to have my heart broken.

Isn't that what always happens?

That's the pattern of my life.

Forgive, forget, and the person lets you down again.

Fall in love with Bella, all for her to tear my heart out and stomp on it.

That _will_ happen.

It's only a matter of time. I've never loved any woman before her—never even really had a girlfriend before—but it's all the same.

Thinking of it all also brought something else to light.

People are always letting me down, but I'm what every situation has in common. I'm the common denominator. It could be me, I'm the problem, not those other people.

I fuck up.

"What…?" She placed her hand on my cheek, turning me to face her, which _was_ a turn in events. "Tell me more. What else?"

"Nothing." I cleared my throat. "When are you leaving again?"

"I leave next week—I'll be gone May 24th 'til June 16th."

"That long?" I quirked a brow.

"That's what I've done every year since moving here. It's boring, but I get to see my dad." She grabbed my hand.

"And you're definitely coming back?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Okay." Like always, I decided to hope for the best—knowing I couldn't right any wrongs without them happening first. "If you're with Alice, I bet you'll have fun."

"I'd have more fun with you." She leaned forward to kiss me deep—a kiss so intense, I almost forgot my name.

Letting out a long groan, I pulled back to take her T-shirt off—my hands going to her tits while my mouth devoured hers.

"Edward—" she stopped me "—we shouldn't. Not right now."

I just stared at her while I tried to catch my breath.

She pointed. "Priorities first." Bella patted my back, and then she proceeded to start cleaning again.

She was still topless, and I thanked God for small favors.

Needing to pee and brush my teeth, I went to the bathroom, waving to Hale and McCarty who were chillin' in the living room. Without exchanging words, I joined Bella on the floor, set on helping her with the task that's my closet.

She appreciated it and thanked me, giving me this sweet, short kiss before continuing.

Maybe this morning was crazy—feeling as though I woke up in another world—but it still wasn't a bad one, it was a great one, another day I was able to wake up next to Bella.

"Thank you," I said.

She stared, quizzically. "For…?"

"Just…being you." I massaged the back of her neck.

"You know I'm a sure thing, right? When we're done, you'll most definitely get laid." She grinned.

I laughed, pushing some shit aside to gather her into my arms.

Almost too satisfied, too fucking happy, I hummed as I peppered her face and neck with kisses.

And as I reveled in it, in Bella, in our happiness, I wondered what horrific thing would happen next to tear it from me.

"Too tight," she giggled.

I didn't care, never wanting to let her go.

"Edward…what's the matter?" She wiggled in the embrace to face me.

"I don't know." I was honest, to an extent. "Just don't change—just be you and I'll be me, and we'll take days as they come."

"You're shaking," she whispered, that worried crease present between her brows. "Even the bravest man quakes under the weight of the world . . . let it go." She placed her lips to mine. "You need to let it all go, Edward. It's okay to be sad."

I swallowed my emotions down, feeling a lump in my throat.

"Even if you know…logically it was for the best, it's still okay to grieve, and you should let go of that anger…toward Carlisle." She held me tight.

I didn't say anything, absorbing her words, although they didn't make me feel better. "Don't _you_ go anywhere." If she only knew my worries were because of her.

Sure, my grandfather is better off dead, and I'm used to hating my father.

But I didn't know if I could handle losing Bella.

I was scared of that, and that made me scared to love her, scared to enjoy it even for the briefest of moments.

"I'm not…I'm here." She rubbed my back.

"Thank you." I grabbed her hand to kiss her knuckles. "My hero."

/=/=/=/=/

A few hours later, we stood outside the funeral home, but Bella refused to come inside.

"What's the big deal?" I didn't want to leave her outside by herself. Not on some street corner.

Her lips were in a tight line as she stared. "It's quiet and empty in there . . . and your grandfather is in there." She pointed.

I turned to look at the parlor. "Yeah…"

"That doesn't bother you?"

Movement in my periphery made me whip back to her; Bella was pacing.

I smirked. "You're scared...of a funeral home?"

"No…" She was uneasy. "I'll be there tomorrow with you. It's just empty right now, and…in the basement there's dead people in refrigerators."

"That's how they keep 'em fresh." I shrugged.

"No, they embalm them with formaldehyde, and then they—"

I cut her off with my lips. "I'll be right out." I reached into my pocket for my wallet. "There's receipts and crap." Papers were sticking out all over. "Make it nice and neat for me."

Bella scoffed at me, pushing my hand away. "I'm fine."

"Okay." I nodded. "I'll be out in a few minutes." Holding my grandfather's uniform, I went to enter.

"Edward . . ."

Smiling, I turned back to Bella to see her pacing some more. "Take it."

"Thanks." She took my wallet, content to have a seat on the steps.

"I love you," I whispered, although I doubted she heard me.

**Thank you for reading. **

**Please leave me your thoughts.**


	16. Adh Mor

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd**** by ****HollettLA**

***Special Thanks to Kris Thompson**

***Note* I know many of you were curious as to what might happen to the rapist they caught. You might continue to be curious about those they arrest - their heinous crimes, and those crimes not too serious. However, Edward, Jasper, Jake, Emmett, and even Rosalie . . . While Rosalie Hale has recently gotten a promotion (which happened behind the scenes. She's more a supervisor/paper pusher, due to her pregnancy) They are patrolmen. The apprehend, haul 'em in. They do their jobs, protecting their beat. Meanwhile, they do not follow the chain of custody/command. There will be situation where they'll arrest whoever, but you won't see the END RESULT. **

**They are cops, patrolmen. **

**Offbeat**

**Chapter Sixteen:** **Adh Mor**

With the wake, the mass, and the burial completed, we convened at the Twilight Lounge. There was food, many, many dishes, and the drinks were flowing. My mother and sister had spent the last few days cooking, and there were so many people here: the bucket boys from various fire houses, my immediate family, and a couple of distant relatives who live over in Jersey now. My grandfather knew a lot of official people—there were some cops here, too, along with Whitlock who came through.

Carlisle set this up—having this celebration here.

After someone is laid to rest, we celebrate their lives . . .

I wasn't doing much of anything, to be honest.

Cordial and polite, I was a socialite, greeting and thanking people at the services.

Now, I was done.

Bella and I sat with Alice and Whitlock in a small booth toward the back. My mother, Kate, Carlisle, and the girls were way in the back, singing songs on the piano. Like they were this happy, smiling family. Many others had joined them, too—Dad banging on the keys while everyone sang along.

Earlier, while I was busy concerning myself with guests, my main worry was Bella.

For whatever reason, every time the bagpipes started, she started to cry. The girl who cleans and busies herself with nonsense was brought to tears by bagpipes . . . I didn't get it until she said the whole ordeal was emotional—the parade, the folding of the flag, the marching band.

Otherwise, the past two days have been a blur—a blur of people and then I worked last night.

Tonight, I was just a lump—exhausted, frustrated, and needing some normalcy.

"Another round?" Whitlock asked.

Our glasses were empty because there were plenty of toasts. I nodded. "Yeah, two more Cokes."

"Actually—" Bella spoke up "—I'll have a merlot."

I furrowed my brow. "Since when do you drink?"

She leaned into me to whisper, "You can drink and not be an alcoholic."

I rolled my eyes.

"I've never been drunk, but a glass of wine sometimes is soothing." She nodded.

"Right," I sighed, thinking when in Rome. "Guinness." That's what everyone else seemed to be drinking.

Jasper tapped the table, winking at Alice before he took off.

"Why are _you_ drinking?" Bella faced me, and then my shiny buttons must have distracted her. "I love this." She rubbed up my chest. "The white gloves, you in your hat…" Her eyes met mine.

I grinned, couldn't help it. "You'll love it even more when it's on your floor."

Bella sighed, nestling into me again.

"You guys are so cute!" Alice gushed, reaching to pinch my cheek.

I smacked her hand away. "Shut up."

She laughed, looking around the place. "Is that lasagna? When did that get here?" She ran to the buffet.

"Bring me back some!" I hollered after her, wondering when the lasagna got here, too.

"You should talk to your dad." Bella kissed my cheek.

I quirked a brow, staring at her. "You could talk to my sister, too." For whatever reason, they don't talk, although they've met. My nieces love Bella; they adore her, just like my mother. When Bella and Mom get to talking, my girl's so comfortable, it's hard to get a word in edgewise. Yet, Bella doesn't seem to care for Kate.

"You haven't spoken to her either. My being here is keeping you from them."

"Shhh." I nipped her teeny finger, nibbling it between my teeth.

Bella winced, squealing until I let go, but I knew I didn't hurt her. "You're lying."

"Nope…You're a…welcome distraction. If not for you, I'd more than likely be home, or…I would'a gone back to work." That was the truth, I thought, as I looked over to my family. "Dude's never around, but suddenly…hey," I laughed. "They forget that I held shit together—covered for him, taking care of things." That reality isn't lost to me, them treating my father like he's some celebrity, all smiles and embraces. He's also a fucking hypocrite, never caring for Grandpa Platt on any other day, but today and yesterday, he's a celebrated hero . . . now that he's dead.

"Doesn't mean they love you any less," Bella whispered.

"You're here for me. You're my rock. You're not keeping me from anyone or anything." I squeezed her to my side. "I love you. Thank you for being here."

"I wanted—I needed to be here for you, with you." Bella's gaze met mine, and those eyes . . .

I couldn't stop myself from going for those lips—tangling my tongue with hers, my fingers splayed on her cheek, holding her close.

A round of applause broke us apart, our kiss quite the PDA.

Bella's face was flushed, blushing furiously, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. "Gorgeous," I mouthed, running my finger down her hot cheek.

Bella was smiling, but she ducked into my side.

I kissed her hair, hugging her close, but then clanking—silverware tapping a glass made us look up.

My father was trying to get everyone's attention.

All speeches, blessings, and toasts for my grandfather had been said much earlier.

Curious, I sat up, welcoming my drink when Jasper joined us again. At the same time, Alice was hurrying to get back with our plates.

"I'd like to raise a glass—to my boy, my son Edward and his beautiful dove." Carlisle lifted his stout, wearing a smile that lit up the room.

To be polite, I gave him a curt head nod, showing my drink as well. I thought . . . Well, I thought that was it, that he was finished, until he started walking toward our table.

Uncomfortable, I placed my arm around Bella, stiffening and wondering what the fuck he was going to say. We've barely spoken ten words to each other in the past few years.

The closer he got to us, the angrier I became.

"Edward . . ." He grinned down to me and then looked to everyone else, which made me think this might be part of his show. "May you always have walls for the winds, a roof for the rain, tea beside the fire, laughter to cheer you, those you love near you, and all your heart might desire."

"Thanks." I nodded, my gaze cast downward, but he quickly had my attention again. My mother had joined him, placing a supportive hand on Carlisle's back, which…

I chuckled to myself, slightly shaking my head.

He did it, won Esme over, using my grandfather's death to his advantage, like I knew he would.

Every few years, Carlisle makes his way back into my mother's bed.

All to leave her heartbroken—a mess for me to clean up after he's done.

"May your pockets be heavy and your heart be light." Carlisle continued, reaching to squeeze my stiff shoulder. "May good luck, and this gorgeous lass, Bella—" he bent low to place a kiss on her knuckles. She was embarrassed, giggly, and her face was still red "—pursue you each morning _and_ night," he laughed, as everyone else hooted, hollered, whistled, and applauded.

Mom landed a smooch on my cheek, and I managed to conjure a smile.

"A toast. Everyone have a drink to my brilliant and brave son, _mo __chuisle_—Edward. _Is __tú __mo __ghrá_," he whispered that Irish phrase. I knew what it meant. I just didn't have a reply.

"_Adh __mor__!"_ he shouted, turning to others, who mirrored his words, wishing us luck.

"Thank you!" I nodded a few times, gazing around the room with my glass held high. "I appreciate it." With a quick glance to Carlisle, I sipped my Guinness while everyone else drank their beverages.

He lingered near our table, although I'm not sure why.

Bella, being Bella, had to strike up a conversation, and it wasn't until Carlisle sat down that I remembered something. "I thought you were on the wagon?"

"The blood in me veins'll water it down." He smiled big. "Can't drink pop to a man." Carlisle guzzled the black stuff. "A fella like ye grandfather? Always thought me a tosser—that one. But'he'was'a'good man!" He shook his head, speaking very fast—drunk, and that's when that brogue of his gets even thicker. Carlisle was relaxed now, done with his speech.

"What?" Bella didn't understand him.

It made me chuckle. "Nothing." I kissed her cheek.

"Effin' and blindin' at'me, and I'd'say 'feck off!'" Carlisle went on, laughing. "Fierce man—a real holy Joe, like me Edward, here." He spoke to Bella, and then looked to me. "Go get ye'self another pint—"

"What?" Bella blinked.

I tried not to laugh again as I stood up to button my jacket. "We should go. She's got school early tomorrow."

"Stay." Whitlock insisted.

"Listen ta'ye mate, 'ere." Carlisle placed his arm around him.

Huffing a breath, I disagreed, gently massaging Bella's shoulders—a silent plea for her to stand.

Thankfully, she got the hint. "Yeah…I have class early," she said.

"Bunk off!" Carlisle chuckled.

Bella looked to me.

"She can't," I explained. "She's gotta go to school—can't miss it." My eyes met Bella's, and now she understood what he meant.

"Come on. That's still no need to leg it'dis'early."

I shook my head no, grabbing Bella's purse.

"I hope to see ya's soon, yeah? You and Edward come to supper this week." He shot up to pull Bella into his arms, and I yanked her into my side.

"Goodnight." I patted his back, ushering us toward the door.

Bella didn't like lying, but she played along, and I couldn't get us out of there fast enough. Jasper and Alice stayed behind, still having a good time with Carlisle, and I was glad they were.

I mean, I was the only buzzkill, the only cop who couldn't let go and have fun tonight. Everyone else was drunk off their asses, and on any other night . . . they'd be the type I'd be picking up for barroom brawls.

In fact, one these _never_ ends without one—a scuffle of some sort. Especially with cops and bucket boys littering the place. It'll start with a pissing contest and then someone will throw a punch.

But I wanted us gone before that happened.

"Edward!" Kate shouted for me.

With my hand on Bella's back, I turned to her.

"C'mere, little brother." Drunk, too, she called me over by using her finger.

"We hafta go!" I was loud enough for her sloppy ass to understand. "I'll stop by this weekend."

"We'll take the girls somewhere," Bella whispered.

"Yeah…Katie, we'll take the girls Sunday. I'm off!"

She stumbled out a few steps. "I didn't get'ta talkin' to you," Kate slurred.

Larissa followed her out. "Mommy, Nanna says—"

"_Mo __chuisle__."_ Kate hugged her daughter.

"What's that mean?" Bella asked.

"Uh, my pulse." I faced her. "It's a term of endearment…but I'd say _A __chuisle __mo __chroí _to you, which means 'the pulse of my heart.'"

Bella beamed at me. "I didn't know you could talk like that."

I raised a brow. "Uh…some things."

"What did your dad say before? The funny sounding one?" she asked.

Walking her a few paces away from Katie, truly wanting to leave, we went toward the corner. "_Is __tú __mo __ghrá__," _I said.

"That's it," Bella giggled.

"I love you . . . that's what it means." I touched her face before going back to Katie_._

"You having fun, baby girl?" Katie was fooling around with Larissa, but my sister was falling all over. Well, she would be, if not for her daughter.

I groaned, taking three big steps to meet them. "Go inside. Mommy'll be right in." Bending low, I placed a kiss in Larissa's hair.

"We're not going to school tomorrow," my niece told me.

"Why not?" I decided not to inquire; it was already late—too late for them to be out anyway. "Go inside."

Larissa hugged my middle before running to Bella, instead of listening to me. I kept them in my periphery while they giggled and spoke to each other near the corner.

"I don't think she likes me—your girlfriend," Kate laughed, leaning on the doorway. "She's really pretty, though." She frowned, pursing her lips as she stared.

I massaged my forehead. "She likes you…She just...doesn't know you. Give her some time, all right?" I didn't know what else to say.

Kate placed her hand by her mouth, shielding her lips. "There's something…off with her, right?"

I furrowed my brow. "Why—"

"Just an observation?" she whispered. "A gut feeling? Mom doesn't see it." She looked to Bella again. "She's just…different, short-bus special—"

And I grabbed her arm to shove her back inside.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I seethed, her words and cattiness making me see red.

Kate slapped at me, pushing me away. "Fuck you, Edward!"

"Look at yourself…you're Pop now? What?" Wanting to hurt her, feeling the actual need, I squeezed her biceps tightly.

Kate raised a brow. "Let me go. Now!"

I pointed my finger in her face. "Come out your mouth again—about my life, about my woman—about any-fucking-thing—"

"You'll, what?" My sister found it comical. "You'll deck me? You never struck me as someone who'd beat on women…Maybe _your woman_ should run in the opposite direction—"

"Fuck you!" I spat.

"Oh!" Carlisle sidled up to me, pulling Kate from my grasp. Mom was quick to run over to us, too, and I peeped Maddy asleep in a booth. "Whatta'ya doin'?"

I put my hands up, showing them my palms.

Angry, having nothing to say, I turned—leaving the bar.

Bella and Larissa were laughing about something, and I jerked my thumb behind myself. "Get inside!"

Larissa's lip quivered. "We were just—"

"I don't care!" I snapped. "It's late!"

My niece ran back inside crying, and Bella wasn't my biggest fan right now either.

The look she gave me . . .

Maybe she didn't ask.

Maybe she didn't have to, but Bella knew something was up without witnessing that bullshit at the bar.

"Cullen!"

The both of us whipped around to see Jasper widen his arms.

I stiffened, pushing Bella and myself along faster.

Only two blocks away from her apartment, we got there quickly. Bella didn't have much to say on our way. She was almost too quiet, but she wanted an explanation as soon as I plopped down onto the couch.

"Everything was going so well. What did she say?"

I shrugged, not wanting to tell her. "Not important."

Bella groaned. "Edward…talk to me, please." Her tone was pleading as she took a seat next to me. "I'm trying. I'm trying really hard."

My shoulders drooped, and I frowned while I pulled her hair from her shoulders. "You shouldn't have to…I told you, how long ago? That I was no good at this stuff?" At a loss for words, I palmed my face, resting my elbows on my knees.

For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why everything had to be this difficult.

"Carlisle's toast was really nice. Everyone was having a great time. They all love you so much. I don't understand—"

"Neither do I."

"If you talk…I'll listen. You're no good at opening up. I'll admit that." She smiled, encouraging.

I shook my head. "I meant…as a man, as your man. I'm not good—"

Her brows rose. "I love you just as you are. Remember? You be you, and I'll be me?" Bella's grip on my forearm was tight, fear shining in her eyes. "You—you said—" she panted, "um. I-I mean, you said—what are you saying now?" She was seconds away from crossing that threshold, and I didn't know what to do.

Rip off the Band-Aid? Leave, knowing she'd be better off? Soothe her, and tell her I'm not saying anything of importance?

I love her.

And if I left now . . .

It'd be easier.

And if I left now . . .

I'd sabotage the best thing, the best thing that's ever happened to me.

"Bella—" I placed my palm on her cheek "—you'd be better off. I'm—I don't know." I shrugged, feeling my chin wrinkle, my eyes prick with tears. Knowing I was crying, I still tried to shake it off, forget about it all, and yet give Bella an explanation. "The alcohol—them being drunk. It pisses me off." I sniffed.

Bella wiped under my eyes. "I wouldn't be better without you—better off. Without you, I might not be here right now. J-James could have…" Her eyes were unseeing.

"Hey…" I leaned my forehead to her cheek.

"You're amazing, Edward Cullen. Just the way you are," she whispered, hugging me tight. "I love you…and I'm the happiest ever." Bella was being pretty brave right now. Seconds ago, she was too close to having an anxiety attack. "She said something about me…that got you mad."

"No," I lied.

"I know the look." She leaned in to catch my gaze. "I knew what she was thinking before…she said it to you. I'm sorry you have to—"

"Don't you dare." I rushed out. "Don't apologize, make excuses. There is no excuse for her being—and she's got my nieces, and it's almost midnight." I blew out a breath. "If she looked at you weird—"

"Don't lie. Do me that favor."

I nodded, accepting that. "I'm sorry . . . My sister's just a bitch sometimes."

Bella giggled, resting next to me, and once again . . .

I reveled in our embrace, thinking myself crazy for ever wanting to walk away, or feeling the need.

However, while we cuddled on the couch, my mind did wander—wondering why I see Bella as perfect when Bella—herself—Alice, and my sister have said there was something wrong. No, not wrong, different. Maybe I thought Bella a little weird in the beginning, when we'd first met, but they were just quirks. Now? She's just the way she is. I don't see her as being any different than myself, than others.

Maybe she deals with things in various ways—ways others might not—but that doesn't make her ways wrong.

Attributes, quirks, the same shit Alice had said, how she explained it.

Do I not see things because I'm in love with her?

Or . . . am I ignorant like Bella said?

One day, will I wake up and my life with Bella will be like the ending of _Shallow Hal_? Instead of the dreamboat, will I wonder who the shipwreck is eating my clams casino?

Whitlock, he said, "It's all about the level of weirdness you can handle. We're all weird."

And I agreed with him.

I'm no picnic to be around either. I have my hang-ups.

Fuck, I can't even open my goddamn mouth, open myself up.

I do and say all the wrong things, although I try my hardest, too.

I try to understand, be sensitive, and I was raised by a woman—my mother raised me, along with Kate butting her head in whenever she could.

Why doesn't sensitivity, compassion come naturally? Is that what that is, the talking shit?

I didn't even know.

"Why are you so quiet?" Bella yawned.

I sighed, twirling a lock of her hair around my fingers. "What else has my mother told you?"

"What?" she asked.

"One time, you told me…that my mother told you, that I didn't have a relationship with my father," I laughed. "That's—that's putting it politely. What else did she say?"

"Nothing. That's it."

"Oh." I nodded.

"Can you tell me?" she asked, her voice sounding small. "Please?"

"Yeah," I said, giving in, surrendering. "Let's get changed and into bed—"

She laughed, lifting her head. "Yeah, right."

I smiled, leaning over to get her lips. "I promise."

She wore this cute little smirk, getting to her feet to pull my hand.

I followed Bella into the bedroom, and I was still in my dress blues.

Slowly, just to tease her, I faced her as I popped each golden button.

"You don't play fair." Bella placed her hand on my chest.

"Never said I did," I whispered, my mouth crashing to hers.

Bella jumped—her arms and legs wrapping around me, and I stepped back until I collapsed onto her bed. "Look at you." She sat up, undoing buttons and kissing my exposed skin, driving me crazy.

Groans and grunts escaped me, and then my breath caught—anticipation flowing through me as she undid my pants. "Christ. You're so hard."

"You…because of you." I pushed her long hair away from her face. Now that we were slowing down, I had a few moments of clarity—hard-on or not. "Come here." I scooted higher on the bed, taking her with me.

Bella's black dress pooled around her waist, and I had to tear my eyes away.

"Put your jammies on."

"Jammies," she repeated, hopping from the bed.

Like a starved man, I watched as my rump roast undressed, enticing me further.

But then I did the same, discarding my clothes very quickly.

We both got into bed, nestling into each other, and I didn't know where to begin. "I wanna make love to you in the worst way right now." Actually, I wanted to dog the fuck outta her, but making love sounds nicer.

She sighed. "You…" Her sneaky paw palmed my cock, her teeth nipping at my jaw. "You make it hard to listen sometimes."

"Yeah?" I asked.

She pushed her tits into me and then she rolled over. "Bed…um, being in bed and talking. Edward, it doesn't work." She stared up to the ceiling.

I laughed, agreeing. "My cock is so fucking hard right now."

Bella whimpered, turning the lamp on. "I'm gonna sit over there." She left the bed to sit at her desk.

I wasn't happy with this arrangement either.

"Can you just—" She stopped talking, but I could tell she was frustrated.

I nodded, knowing I had to begin somewhere. Also, I knew that once I started talking, my dick was going to shrivel and there'd be nothing to worry about.

Nevertheless, I finally opened my fucking mouth. I started at the beginning, not as far as back as my birth, but with what I remembered. I was honest, told her that Carlisle wasn't always bad, but . . . I struggled along there, not knowing how to phrase certain things.

Bella didn't stay at the desk. I got maybe a few sentences out before she was snuggling with me again.

I told her how we never had any money. How Carlisle would gamble any little paycheck he'd earned, how we were even worse off after he bounced, how—

I told her everything . . .

A few times, I had to stop, gather myself.

It's one thing to know of your own hardships, the shit you can't let go or forget.

But it's a whole other thing to admit them to the one person . . .

The only person . . .

Bella sees me a certain way, and . . .

She knows me as the Edward I am now, not the poor kid who had the drunk father and the punching bag of a mother, and so on, and so on.

"When Kate said that…" Before I knew it, we were up to tonight. It was three in the morning. Jasper and Alice stumbled in hours ago, and I was still talking. "I got upset. I didn't…I didn't want to hurt her, only I did?" I rolled over to tangle our legs, grasp her hand. "God forbid, I ever…What if one day you got me angry?"

"I don't know how to reply," she whispered. "I know you. I know that you'd never want to hurt me." She gently kissed my lips. "You're a good man. Maybe tonight—tonight she just struck a nerve? A huge one?" she giggled. "I don't wanna make excuses for her. But I knew what she was thinking when she'd look at me." Bella's eyes fell away from me.

I followed them. "Bella—"

"My mind works differently than most others…in different ways; meanwhile, I'm smarter than many." She smiled. "And a lot of people are just as socially awkward. I clam up. Sometimes I'm over-sensitive. Sometimes I'm under-sensitive—"

"You're a woman," I said.

"I'm not sick." She shook her head. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"I know that." I nuzzled my nose to hers. "I know that. You have nothing to prove to me." Regardless of anyone else, I believed my own mind-set, my own beliefs. "It bothers me when you get upset—"

"Because you care about me."

"Exactly," I agreed. "No matter what, no matter what anyone says, no matter what they do, I'm going to defend you." I wrapped my arms around her to squeeze her.

"I don't know what to say about your sister, but…you'd put your cape on for any damsel in distress." She had humor in her tone. "You'd come to any female's rescue—if you witnessed something and were able to."

I nodded, knowing her words to be true.

"Your wanting to hurt her? It might not be the apple falling too close to the tree." She rubbed up my chest. "That's your sister. Sometimes I wanna hurt Alice."

I smiled. "Yeah, but—"

She pushed me onto my back. "I don't think you ever could or would, but if you ever did…my dad will probably kill you."

"I'd deserve it." My hands roamed down to her ass.

"I'm sorry…" Her face fell, her forehead resting to my chin. "I'm sorry for all those things." She sniffled, and I knew she was crying, but instead of trying to stop her . . .

Bella wasn't sobbing. She was sad for me, for the things she couldn't change in my life—for the bad things that happened.

And I held her until we both fell asleep.

Once again, it felt like a weight had been lifted, and I woke up feeling much better—almost refreshed—having told Bella everything.

_**Thank you for reading. **_

_**Please leave me your thoughts. **_


	17. Gray Matter

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd**** by ****HollettLA**

**Warning: Graphic, may be hard to read for some readers. **

**The story between E/B is romance/humor, but with placing a realistic spin on Edward being NYPD, there might angsty/hard to read situations . . . So, yeah. There's a warning for this chap.**

* * *

**Offbeat**

**Chapter Seventeen:** **Gray Matter**

I've heard time and time again that the things that make you a good cop can mess you up as a person—a human being.

I see things as black and white, while others acknowledge the many shades of gray. But with all the things in this world . . . all the difficulties, why fuck it up even further? Why make things harder by _adding_ to it?

There's right and wrong.

Legal and illegal.

We're taught to enforce the law—arrest those who break the rules.

It took Whitlock months to teach me different. As patrolmen, we answer radio calls—we go from location to location solving problems. Sometimes people get arrested, sometimes people get let go, we handle disputes . . .

But it's really about making a difference, isn't it?

I mean, it's a cliché for a reason.

You try and you fail, get kicked to the ground, and you lose . . .

You lose so many times, and then you have that one win . . .

You get that one taste of a happy ending.

And you learn you really can make a bad thing right.

Then all those losses . . . they don't hurt so much.

Bella's my silver lining.

We followed a tip, a gut instinct, and we found that fuck who had her before he could really do anything.

I thank God for that every day.

Every-fucking-day.

The alternative—

I don't like to think about it; meanwhile, it was right in front of me.

Every time I see something horrible, every time we get to something late, I think about my beautiful woman, our future, which is chock-full of too many possibilities that I don't like to speculate.

Two days ago, a six-year-old girl was reported missing. Her mother's a crackhead, and her daughter's last known location was a crack house by the river. When there's a missing kid . . . no one stops until we find them, or until the trail goes cold, and then it gets turned over to the Feds.

And it was just our luck that . . . on this hot summer day, Black and I got a call about a suspicious smell by another abandoned warehouse.

I have no idea how long that little girl had been dead, but it stunk something awful—nearly a hundred degrees and stuffy in the darkened room. We canvassed, called for a supervisor, the detectives . . . Soon, this empty place will turn into a three-ring circus.

The little girl—her name was Jenny—had black stringy hair. She had obviously been raped, judging by the position in which we found her, the dried blood that went down the insides of her legs.

It made me sick—what we'd found—and I didn't care about running a crime scene. Being extra careful, I managed to cover her up. I was wearing gloves, so it should be no problem.

Black couldn't handle it.

He cried, puked in a trash can, and now he's waiting in the RMP. That doesn't make him a bad cop; it makes him a human being.

With my gun in my hand, ready to draw if the sick bastard who'd done this came back, my gaze settled on Jenny's. Her eyes were open, tearstains on her cheeks, and I couldn't look away.

This . . .

I also couldn't think of any words to describe this horrific scene.

I wanted to get out of here, too.

I wanted to get busy sorting shit out, so we could figure out who'd done this.

I wanted someone to tell me . . . I needed someone to break it down for me.

Because the evil…the evilness, the sickness, the fucked up-ness it must take for someone to do this…

It just didn't make sense. Shit like this never does.

I yearned to get my hands on this fuck.

I yearned to make him hurt.

I yearned to scare him—frighten him even more than Jenny had been, put the fear of God into him.

_Kill him . . ._

We're supposed to be different than them—the skells we haul in every day, the people we bust for breaking the law. With anger in my heart, I wholeheartedly wanted to kill this sick bastard, and I wondered about that thin line.

Wanting to kill and having the capability . . .

We're supposed to be different, work the system, let the system work for us in lieu of taking the law into our own hands.

In my periphery, I saw the flashlights, and Hale was the first on the scene. As she's a sergeant now, I snapped out of it to salute her, stumbling over my words to explain how we'd found her—tell the ME and the forensic dudes exactly what we'd touched, how we'd found the her.

"Good work." Hale patted my back.

"Good work?" I asked, her words striking a nerve. "We—we patrol, drive around here every day, and—"

We never found her.

We never even heard her scream.

We never—

We couldn't _fucking_ stop it.

Hale pulled me over to the side while the place became crowded, the flash from a camera lighting up the room. "You can't save everyone."

Angry, I pointed. "_You_ can't even look."

Hale gulped, placing her gloved hand to her mouth, under her nose as she gazed down. "You need me to talk to our CO? Get you some time off?" Yes, the department knows that every once in a while their cops need breaks—maybe see a counselor, too.

"No . . . Sergeant." I saluted her again, turning from the scene. "I'll have the report for you soon."

"Thank you," she called out, and when I turned, she saluted me.

Without anything more to say, I entered our squad, and I didn't know what to say to Black either.

"What, uh—"

"We gotta go back to the house," I said, starting the engine and pulling away from the curb. "We do our paperwork, let crime scene take over, and then we're back on 98."

In an hour and a half, approximately the time it takes to fill out the massive reports, we'll be back in our RMP, ready to get fucked by the rest our tour—we continue, we hope to help the next person, prevent the next crime. We hope against all logic and reason that . . . we can make a difference.

"You okay?" Black whispered.

"No." I was honest because I didn't want him to feel badly about his own reaction. "You never get used to shit like that."

He nodded, looking down to his hat. "I'll—I'll do the paperwork, if you want. If you need a few minutes."

I swallowed loudly, feeling my eyes prick with tears as I stared forward. "Thank you."

He placed his hand on my shoulder, and then we rode in silence back to the precinct.

My partner, who I was slowly getting used to—actually liking him—got busy filling out the necessary forms, taking a seat at a desk. He's not as annoying as I once thought, and this weekend we're going to look at a place together. Black's just a rookie, doesn't know everything yet. I'm in the same boat; I just know more, have more time on the job than he does.

"You found her?" Jenny's mother approached me. She was filthy, living on the streets and whatnot, and I couldn't . . .

"Excuse me." I walked around her.

"Tell me!"

I whipped around to face her. "How could you let that happen?! What kind of mother—"

"Cullen!" Vasquez ushered me away. "Take a breather." He gave me a nudge and then turned back to Jenny's mother.

And that was my problem. Even in my head I was calling our victim by her first name—making it personal when I shouldn't do that.

Even with my back to them . . . I knew the exact moment when the captain told her the news. The piercing cry that rang through the air hurt my heart, made me feel nauseated again, but I didn't stop—my steps didn't falter until I staggered into the locker room.

It was many degrees cooler in this space, the concrete walls shielding the place from the strong heat outside. The broken A/C barely creates a breeze, and I focused on that sound as my eyes landed on my locker.

I don't know how long I sat there.

People came and went, toilets flushed . . . a few people patted my back.

My cell phone broke me from my reverie, and I felt a pang of something when I saw Bella's name flash on the screen.

She was supposed to be in Washington today, in her small hometown, away from the garbage and harsh realities that are in this city.

Bella stayed because of me.

We're supposed to go over there together next month.

I was selfish, throwing that idea out there, wanting her to stay to be with me instead of going someplace safer.

What was wrong with me?

"Hey…"

"Hi," I said, my voice full of emotion. "What are you up to?"

"Um…Alice and I are making cheese quesadillas." Her cousin had stayed behind, too. By some miracle, Whitlock had been able to switch, whereas I hadn't. The four of us are heading out, actually, together. "Are you okay?"

I smiled. "The really cheesy kind with the onions and peppers?"

"I'm making a steak one just for you…Jasper likes chicken, so…Edward?"

"I'm here." I cleared my throat. "Bad day, I guess." I threw my hat down, knowing I had another three hours before I'd be off duty. "And it's not over."

Bella hummed. "Just think about it . . . when you get here, we'll have dinner and then you'll have me," she giggled.

I nodded, grinning. "That's—that's best incentive to get this day over with. I love you."

"I love you, too. I don't know what happened, but . . . I know in my heart it's not your fault."

"Right," I agreed.

"We can talk about it when you get here," she said, but we really couldn't, and she knows that.

"You know the rules." I chuckled.

"But there's always more. Your thoughts? Things you can tell me? It's not about being intrusive. We just need people to talk to sometimes."

"How'd you get so smart?" I pushed my hair back.

"I don't know. I skipped a grade, and I was in advanced classes in high school—"

I laughed to cut her off, knowing there was a long explanation to follow. "I should go. I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too. Be careful."

"Always." I ended the call.

After splashing some cold water on my face, I donned my thicker skin—pushing it all out of my head. I even avoided the lobby just in case there were others speaking about it. Black was just finishing up the reports, and I read them, making sure he dotted his "i"s and crossed his "t"s, making sure he told the story exactly as it happened.

That's the thing about my new partner. He may not be that good on his feet as of yet, but Black knows how to do a report—knows how to word shit better than I ever could. He has all that info he learned at the academy fresh in his brain, which doesn't make us too bad a team.

I have a little bit of Whitlock in me, knowing we shouldn't arrest everyone. I have a little bit of McCarty—taking chances and being a cowboy, a hard-ass sometimes. And knowing the difference? When to be which? It's instinctual now, but I've never been a paper pusher.

"You ready?" I asked, looking from Black over to Vasquez.

"If youse need a day or two—"

I put my hand up, about to speak for both of us. "We're good." It wasn't like we used our weapons, shot someone. We see terrible things daily. It's nothing new.

"All right. Good work out there." Vasquez smiled at us, and his words . . . they hit below the gut again.

"Good work." Black scoffed, walking fast as we left the precinct.

"Yeah," I whispered, agreeing.

"I need'a coffee, a good one." Black entered the car.

Knowing I could go for some caffeine myself, I drove toward the Starbucks that's a few blocks away. I got a regular coffee with milk, but Black . . . he got some iced, frilly shit with whipped cream.

It made me smile for whatever reason.

On the way back to our beat, Central pinged us. 78 Alpha needed backup again, and we both groaned—hearing that. But Dispatch didn't phrase it that way—said 78 Alpha needed our assistance, mine specifically—for us to get in touch with Whitlock or McCarty.

Curious and wary, I just called Jasper's cell phone. "What's up?"

"Uh…come to the Twilight Lounge—personal matter."

I stopped at red light. "Look…if Carlisle did something, take him in. That's not my problem."

"Cullen, just come here." He hung up on me.

"What's going on?" Black asked.

"I don't know." I made the tires screech as I made a U-turn.

"If you're gonna drive like that, at least put the lights on." Black flicked the switch.

I laughed, getting a kick outta him.

It took us less than two minutes to get to the lounge, and I parked behind 78 Alpha. However, no one was in the bar except Hank, who told me to walk around the corner.

Black trailed behind me, looking wary with his hand lingering on his holster.

"Be easy—" That was when my gaze landed on them. Carlisle and Steve—my mother's ex-boyfriend—were handcuffed and being held several paces away from each other. Steve was bruised, bloody, and beaten, and Carlisle was shouting at him…until he saw me.

My father settled down, slinking farther back into Whitlock.

"What's the problem?" I asked.

Whitlock and McCarty looked to each other, to Carlisle, and then to me. "They were fighting in the street—old lady up the block called about a disturbance," Jasper explained.

I nodded, not saying much. "Have them sign cross-complaints and haul 'em in. Youse need help?" I asked.

"Edward—" McCarty started.

Again, things were black and white to me, and right now . . . both Steve and my father looked like two drunk and disorderlies, people I'd take in to sober up in the cage.

"What?" I raised a brow.

"Lemme talk to you a second, son," Carlisle said.

"Youse don't wanna do it?" I ignored him, speaking to Whitlock and McCarty. "Black, take him to the RMP." I grabbed Carlisle's bicep, handing him over to my partner.

None the wiser, Black started to walk him up the block.

"Edward!" Carlisle shouted.

I glanced at Steve who blanched back, away from me. "What'd you do?"

Steve wouldn't look me in the eyes.

I grasped him by his hair. "What'd you do? Smack her around? Get mad she's with that fuck again?" I jerked my head. "What'd you do?" When the realization hit me, like a ton of bricks, I wondered if my mother was okay.

Steve refused to answer me, and that's when I started swinging. I got him in the stomach and then in the mouth before Whitlock pulled me off of him. "Drive him to the river—fucking leave his ass there." I spit at him.

"Edward!" Jasper shook me.

I didn't care. "You better hope she's okay—I don't know what you did, but I'll kill you!" I shouted.

McCarty kicked Steve to the ground, and I guess he understood my worries.

"Go…bring your father home. Don't _arrest_ him," Whitlock said.

"Don't?" I snorted, smoothing down my shirt. "What makes him any different? He's no different than that piece of shit!" I spat.

"Assess the situation before you do something you can't take back. Once he's in the cage…Edward, go talk to him." Whitlock ushered me to the RMP.

Angry, seething at nothing, and wanting to kick Carlisle's ass, too—I started the car, speeding off once more. I drove to the diner, where Morris, our usual foot patrolmen, chills to drop Black off.

"Get some dinner—something," I said. "I'll be back in ten minutes."

Luckily, Jake didn't question, leaving the car without bitching.

Once we were alone, Carlisle didn't have anything to say either—not until our eyes met in the rearview.

"You'd have your own pop arrested?" he asked.

"Is that what you are?" I countered.

He slumped low, his hands still behind his back. "I'm living with your ma again."

I snorted, and I didn't bother to comment.

"We're tryin'ta work things out. There's still so much love between us."

"So, what happened?" I pulled over to park, making the tires sound again. Carlisle lurched forward. Unfortunately, he didn't get the waffle, fucking his face. "He smack her around?"

Carlisle nodded, solemnly. "He was angry—she told him not to come by anymore, and I was working."

"Working?" That was funny, too.

"Yep," he sighed. "It's not much—construction."

"Right." I wondered how many weeks he'd tough it out at that gig. "He got rough with her . . . she in the hospital?"

"No. He didn't mark her—"

"Were you jealous?" I quirked a brow. "Jealous you couldn't beat her first? He got to her first? Took your role, what?"

"Edward, I've made mistakes. We were too young, and I—"

I groaned, leaving the car to tear open the back door. After getting Carlisle onto his feet, I took the cuffs off. "Leave. Leave Mom alone. Leave before you two get any closer."

He shook his head. "No."

Gnashing my teeth together, I stiffened, wanting to hurt him.

"I want us to be closer, like we used'ta be, son." He placed his hand on my shoulder.

I shrugged him off. "Don't touch me."

"Edward—"

I grabbed his arm, walking him to the corner to let go. "Stay—do what you want, but I'm not ten anymore, Carlisle. You touch her, you hurt my mother, and I will kill you. You understand?"

Carlisle nodded. "I'll show you—"

"No." I waved a finger. "I don't wanna be shown a thing. Stay away from me."

"Yer ma needs me, Edward." This fuck had tears in his eyes. "And Katie, my sweet little love, is confused—she needs me, too."

I cackled, speedily walking back to my car. "You know what's funny? We needed you _twelve years_ ago, ten years ago . . . You're over a decade-_fucking_-late!"

"Son!" He reached for me.

"You heard my words!" I shouted. "Remember them." I reentered the car, going back toward the diner to pick up Black—my mind reeling.

What I really wanted to do was drive over to my mother's, tell her how I felt, but I knew . . .

Even if my intentions were pure, only having the best thoughts at heart, wanting to look out for my family, I'd easily turn into their enemy.

Mom and Kate only see what they want, ignoring the truth—ignoring what's right.

They're gray-seers.

I don't have any time for that, not now, not ever.

For the rest of our shift, we answered bullshit calls, hauled someone in for public indecency—which is always a hoot—and it was the same bum that pissed on McCarty months back.

On any other day, I would have let him go. All he was doing was draining the snake, but it offended some people who called the cops. Not giving a fuck, wanting to do my job without conscience or feelings, I placed him in the cage and wasted a few more minutes filling out the report.

Like a robot, I went on with the rest of my day, and going to Bella's . . .

It was like putting a Band-Aid on a gash that needs stitches, only fixing the problem for a minute at best.

I still felt like shit.

Jenny's eyes haunted my mind—and I did everything I could not to think about her, my family, fucking Carlisle.

I kept thinking, wishing I would have arrested him, but for what…?

So, Mom could spend her rent money bailing him outta lockup?

That's exactly what would have happened, and then I'd lend my mother the money a week or two down the line.

When Bella finished cleaning after dinner, she kissed me deep.

And I woke up . . .

For the first time today, I felt—went with the flow, feeling with my body and not needing to think.

We quickly entered her bedroom, our clothes flying everywhere, as our kisses became sloppier and rougher—my hands traveling all over her body.

Needing to be inside her, needing the world to disappear, I entered her with force, making her eyes widen.

"Oh my God."

I placed my mouth to hers, building a steady rhythm with my hips—taking her hands into one of my own to bring them above her head. "You feel—" There were no words, my stomach stiffening, never having felt anything as good...her pussy giving me amnesia, Bella my anesthesia. "I love you."

Her head was tossed back, and she was just taking it, moaning and whimpering her pleasure, and she looked so beautiful.

Wanting to slow down, needing to get her off, I stopped to kiss down her body—nothing sounding more enticing than licking her pussy, wanting to consume her.

Bella gasped when I sucked her clit, her hands pulling my hair.

I groaned, not worrying about making her come—needing to taste her all over, swallow her down, my tongue fucking her hole while my thumb made circles on her clit.

Bella started to thrash around, crying out, and that shit was sexy as hell.

Alas, the world hadn't finished with its assault on me today.

The _world_ wasn't done fucking me.

"Bella?" It was a dude, not Jasper, along with a knock.

I paused, the sheet still over my head.

"Da-Dad?" Bella was out of breath, and I stiffened, thinking this fuck might be behind me. "Um…I'll—I'll be right out." She pushed me away to tumble off her bed.

I stood there, panting and mortified, but Charlie was on _the other side_ of the door.

"Get dressed." She threw my pants at me.

"Bells? You okay?"

"I'm fine, Dad!" She sounded all wrong, her voice betraying her words.

"Let me in." Charlie tried the handle. "Baby, what's going on?"

Bella was panicking, throwing clothes on. "Why-why are you here?"

"Well, I had the week off already, and when you said you weren't coming—" He knocked once more while I pulled my t-shirt on. "Open this door."

"No." Bella winced, and then she started to push me into her closet.

"What are you doing?" I smiled.

"I have no idea." She was seconds away from tears.

"You're an adult. I'm your boyfriend." I didn't understand what the big deal was.

"Who's in there?" Charlie boomed, banging on the door.

"Uncle Charlie, Bella's fine. She was busy studying." We heard Alice. "You remember Officer Whitlock, right?"

"Cullen's in there?" Charlie asked.

Bella clamped her eyes closed, hugging onto me tightly.

"It'll be okay," I said, placing my lips in her hair. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

I had no idea what Charlie was going to do or say—not that it truly mattered.

But we had to finish getting dressed and face the music.

**Thank you for reading. **

**Please leave me your thoughts. **


	18. Panic Room

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd**** by ****HollettLA**

**Offbeat**

**Chapter Eighteen: Panic Room**

As soon as we were put together and fully dressed, Bella opened the door to greet her father. He stood there for less than a second before he entered her bedroom. The Chief just walked right in like he owned the place.

Maybe we had clothes on, but Bella . . . my meticulous woman had forgotten to make the bed in her haste.

We realized that fun fact at the same time, a condom wrapper in plain sight—the fucking rubber still on my clothed and shrinking dick.

She had wide eyes, and she had nothing to say.

"Sir." I put my hand out to shake his. "How you doin'?"

Charlie walked past me, pushing my hand away. "What's this?" He waved his finger.

I looked to Bella, remembering her telling me that she'd told her father about us—that we were together. "I was helping Bella study." I didn't know what else to say, and I certainly wasn't going to tell him what we were really doing.

Charlie came toward me, and Bella snapped out of it to get between us. "Edward was just leaving."

I narrowed my eyes. "I was?" It was late, and I was supposed to spend the night.

Bella nodded, biting her thumbnail.

I placed my arm around her. "You okay?"

"Get off of her," Charlie said.

A short laugh escaped me. "Sir—"

"You should go." Bella started to push me out of her bedroom, her breaths a bit labored.

"What?" Surprised, I latched onto her.

She had tears in her eyes, was most likely on her way to having an anxiety attack, and that brought an errant thought to mind. Bella's been good lately, her stress level almost down to zero with passing all her exams—school ending, and we have open lines of communications now. No secrets between us.

But do I make it worse for her?

I refused to believe that because Bella says the opposite. Apparently, I have a soothing effect? I make her happy and whatnot.

But what was this now?

"I have to talk—I have to talk to him," Bella whispered.

"Um…" Alice poked her head into the hall, and that's when I saw Whitlock was on his way out, too.

I looked to Bella again. "We can talk to him together." I knew her father could hear us, but I didn't care. "I thought you told him about us?" She'd invited me to go out there for a week—to stay at her house. I didn't understand this.

"I di-did." Bella choked on her words. "I mean—"

None of that mattered. "I'm not leaving until you calm down." I pulled her into my arms and rubbed her back, my eyes meeting Charlie's. "We were hanging out. She's twenty years old," I told him. "You know we're together—I'm her boyfriend."

He grimaced down to the condom wrapper before looking around the room. "You forgot something." He tossed my wallet over to me.

I caught it, racking my brain for something to say. "This isn't what it—"

"I think it's exactly what it looks like." Charlie folded his arms over his chest.

"No...I meant—" Again, I wasn't going to speak of what we were doing. But I needed him to know that's not all I was here for. "I love your daughter." She was still in my arms, and I didn't wanna let go. "I'll leave now, but I'll be back. I'd like it if we got along—we could be friends."

"Bells loves you," he said. "I bet you're a great guy, but my daughter doesn't need a boyfriend. She's got a year of school left and then she's coming home. You guys don't have a future—"

"Who are you to say that?" I asked, knowing full well that Bella plans to go to graduate school right where she is now—at Columbia.

"Shhh." Bella reached up, her shaky hands frantic as she tried to close my mouth—mush my lips together. She crossed that line, was now having a full-blown attack. "Just—just—" She gasped for air.

"Hey...look at me." I held on tighter as she was limp in my arms. "You're fine. Deep breaths."

Her legs gave out, and I tried to ease her onto the carpet, but she collapsed to smack herself in the face.

"Bella, stop…" I pulled her hands away, so she wouldn't hurt herself.

"Bella, look at me." Alice got between us. "You're okay. You're not dying." Alice hugged Bella tightly, and I still had her hands.

"You're okay." The sight broke my heart, and none of this looked as though it fazed Charlie, or maybe he was used to it? "You're not concerned?" I asked him.

"She'll be fine in a few minutes." He gestured, and there was anguish in his gaze. "She's having one of her fits. She'll be fine as soon as you go."

"N-no," Bella disagreed.

"We _all know _you're going to be fine, Bella." Alice rocked her, looking back to me and then to her uncle. "Both of you shut up!"

Bella winced, stiffened, and tried to fight Alice.

But Alice wasn't letting go for nothing. "Can't you see? It's the conflict—the tension. The two men in Bella's life, and she loves you both so much. Right, Bella?"

She whimpered, crying some more, still trying to push her cousin away.

"Stop," Alice warned. "You know I'm just trying to help you. Bella, breathe…easy in, slow and long out. Easy in . . ." She kissed Bella's hair.

I leaned forward to kiss her sad lips. "You're okay." I gulped, sitting back on my calves.

"Where are her pills?" Charlie asked. "I'll get them."

"In her top drawer." Alice pointed. "But…Unc, she doesn't need one. She's okay. Right, Bella?" She leaned back to look at her cousin. "We're gonna calm down…and then we'll fix the couch for Charlie?"

Bella sniffled, looking at me and nodding.

"No, she should take them anyway." Charlie pulled a medication bottle from her nightstand, and . . . I never knew she took medication besides_ the_ pill. "She'll sleep better, and she'll feel _a lot better_ in the morning—won't be as stressed." He turned back to us. "Make yourself useful. Get her something to drink," he told me.

I didn't reply. I didn't move because I didn't want Bella to take anything. Besides that one day at the zoo, Bella hasn't had a real attack—a bad one like she's having now—around me, anyway. She's come close, and I've been warned. Alice told me all about it. But my girl has been really good lately, nothing even close to an attack. Even so, with both Alice and me here, Bella should calm down soon. She didn't need medication.

"I'm okay," she whispered, but she wasn't okay. Bella was still freaking, and I thought if I left, things would calm down.

But I didn't want to leave.

Between a rock and hard place, I sat there. "Hey…" I wiped her tears away.

Bella was stiff, rigid and uncomfortable.

"Ali, give Bells her pills. Edward and I will be outside," Charlie said.

"No!" Bella cried, jumping into my arms.

"It's okay." I held her cheeks. "We should talk, get to know each other better. Right? Maybe we'll do something on my day off?"

She nodded to placate me, her eyes swimming with questions and fear.

"I'll be _right_ back." I handed her over to Alice to stand up. "I'll be in the hall—I'm not going anywhere."

I left Bella's room, and Whitlock stared at me warily. He hadn't left, muttering something about waiting for me. But then Charlie followed us both into the outside hallway.

"I don't hate you," he said right away. "Far from it. I owe you a great deal, but I do feel your relationship with my daughter is highly inappropriate." His eyes traveled to Jasper when he said that, too. "You're her savior, when you were only doing your job. Her gratitude and affection were almost immediate," he explained. "And you took advantage. You both did." He looked to me and then to Jasper again.

"No," Whitlock laughed. "They asked us out. They—"

"You're missing my point." Charlie massaged his forehead. "My daughter isn't in the right place mentally to have a boyfriend. She might not understand—"

"Whoa!" I cut him off, his words angering me. "I don't think you know your daughter very well. With all due respect, Bella's got a strong mind—she's independent, more so than a lot of people older than her." I shrugged. "You're underestimating her—"

"I know how smart she is," he countered. "She has a disorder, which may impair her judgment—"

"That's bullshit!" I nearly shouted. "You seem like a good dad, looking out for her and shit, and you have no idea how…commendable that is to me." I placed my hand on my chest. "But I'm not going anywhere until she tells me to, and...I _know_ she won't." That suddenly became abundantly clear to me.

We love each other, and I needed to have faith in that love, in Bella. Despite my whole life, which has been shit, I have this amazing woman who accepts me and loves me just as I am. Instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop, I needed to wake up and smell the roses—realize and enjoy what we have, not dread the thought of her leaving me.

"She's an adult." I continued. "Her mind is sound, and I'm offended _for her_, pissed myself, for even having this conversation with you. _You_, as her father, should…have more faith? Trust her decisions?" I didn't know what I was trying to say, but yeah. Him underestimating her, making her smaller than the force of a person she truly is . . . that bothered me. Bella once told me that her mother was the only person to ever see her as normal—whatever the fuck normal is. She'd told me all about how people treated her differently, how her father did it, too. Charlie always babied her.

"There's nothing wrong with her, and you—of all people—should know that, _recognize_ it." My teeth gnashed together, and I needed to calm myself now.

"Be easy." Whitlock pushed me back, out of Charlie's face.

I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'm not going anywhere, sir . . . We could try to get along for her sake, or . . . well, you saw what happened in there. I do the right things. I love her. I respect her." I counted off my fingers. "I protect her to the best of my ability—and for that? I, at the very_ fucking least_, deserve your respect. You don't have to like me, but extend the same respect that I'll show you—for her, for Bella. Can _you_ do that?" I poked his chest.

"Yo, relax." Whitlock squeezed my shoulder.

Charlie didn't say anything, but he nodded, wearing a smirk.

When he was quiet for a beat too long, I stepped around him to check on Bella.

They were still on the floor in her doorway.

Bella wasn't calming as fast as she has in the past.

"Edward—"

"I'm here." I stole her from Alice. "I'm here."

"My chest hurts."

"I know, baby…just take deep breaths. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise." I kissed her cheek, holding her tightly. "You're safe with me. I know you know that."

Alice smiled brightly at me, nodding and giving me a thumbs up, so I guess I did good.

"We're fine, okay? We're not fighting. We had a nice talk." I kept my voice breezy, soothing.

"Yo-you're lying," she whispered.

"He's not."

I heard Charlie behind me, but I didn't move.

"He's not lying, baby girl. Everything's okay, you're fine." He was close to me, holding Bella's cheek, and then I felt him pat my shoulder. And I hoped that meant he agreed with what I'd said, that we could get along for Bella. "Maybe tomorrow we can check out the Empire State Building?" Charlie asked.

Bella sniffled. "Edward has to tell us, um, what the terror alert is first." She stated, matter-of-factly, her breathing shaky. "It's always yellow, but…"

I smiled, burying my nose into her hair. "It should be fine."

Bella nodded against me, and I felt her relax within my embrace. She was almost there but not quite, calming further as time wore on. Charlie kept her talking, and I kept rubbing her back, and I knew she'd be all right in just a few more minutes.

But then I jumped when raucous laughter and clapping sounded behind me. "You did it!" Charlie shouted, his tone happy. "You got through it."

Bella let out a short giggle. "Hey, Dad..." She finally greeted him.

Bella still wasn't 100%, trying her hardest now to smile, but she left me to hug her father.

Alice nudged me. "That was something we'd do when she was younger—celebrate when she got through the worst. Also, it let her know we were proud," she whispered. "That she was so strong, accepted, it was okay . . . My goob of an uncle still does it." She chuckled, shaking her head.

I got to my feet again, and I wasn't sure what I should do.

Logically, I knew I couldn't stay the night anymore, but I still didn't want to leave.

"Are you okay?" Alice asked me.

"Are you?" I raised a brow.

She sighed. "Now…I am. I hate that she gets so upset."

"Me too," I admitted.

"I can hear you guys." Bella turned to us.

Alice patted my bicep and then walked around Bella and Charlie, going into the living room.

Bella's eyes met mine, and I looked to her pops.

"I'll, uh…I don't know," he whispered, leaving the doorway.

Bella grinned, watching him go. "He can be awkward in social settings, too."

"I'll call you tomorrow?" I asked.

Bella stared up at me. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry about?" I pulled her into my arms again. "Don't apologize for nothing."

"You and my dad are so macho . . ." She pursed her lips. "Neither of you would back down, and—"

"But everything's fine now." I nipped those lips. "You take meds?"

She shook her head. "I don't like them. They make me tired; Alice knows they knock me out, but my doctor gives them to me…just in case. He also upped the dosage after the whole...you know. But I don't take them."

"Okay." I kissed her hair.

"I was doing really well. Nothing close to an attack for two weeks now, longer than that." She sounded disappointed in herself. "I just…got scared…that...he'd make you leave me. I didn't know what would happen when we'd go to Forks. I hoped for the best, thought I'd be able to talk to him more beforehand. I mean…my dad's been single a long time, but I know he knows what we were doing, which is…Edward, it's gross. He knows. He saw the—" She snatched the condom wrapper off the floor to stuff it deep into the trash can. "The bed's all rumpled, too." She smoothed her blanket over the sheets.

I chuckled, closing the distance between us. "I don't think he knows _exactly_."

Even her eyes were smiling now, and she was gorgeous. "It's weird and...I panicked."

"I know. I was a little weirded out, too." I smiled, my knuckle trailing along her cheek. "You should wash your face, make a cup of tea. I'll get a ride home with Jasper."

Bella agreed, nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"We should go to lunch? Or…? You know that I work tomorrow. Anything before three is cool, though."

"Lunch sounds good. I bet you could tell my dad some stories. I bet you do more in one day than he does in a month—being the chief of police," she explained through a whisper. "Forks is real small…population 3,120, and everyone's spread out."

I grinned. "Sounds interesting."

She shook her head, her eyes widening. "No way. New York is just…" She had stars in her eyes. "I never wanna go back, Edward. I wanna stay with you. I think we have a future."

"Good." My heart sang in this moment. "Good. I don't want you going anywhere."

Regardless, I'd probably _follow_ her anywhere . . .

Bella whimpered again, hugging me tight—almost too tight for her small frame. It made me smile wide, feeling wanted and loved, feeling whole. "I love you," she said.

I palmed her cheeks. "I love you, too. I'll call in the morning, or you call me. It's late, but maybe we could get up early…do something."

"We've said that," she corrected me.

I laughed. "I don't wanna go."

She mirrored my expression. "I know. I don't want you leaving either."

Placing my arm around her, I ushered us out of her bedroom. "Walk me out."

Alice was getting Charlie's bed settled while he sat at the dining room table, drinking one of Jasper's beers. My buddy was still waiting for me, munching on a piece of cold quesadilla. It was misplaced, but I stole a bite of his—hungry.

With greasy lips, I placed a kiss on Bella's cheek, just so she'd scrub it away with her hand.

She's adorable.

Our goodbye wasn't long. I didn't get a _decent_ kiss, but I'd see her tomorrow.

"Officer Cullen!" Charlie shouted for me, and I was already a flight down. "We should get together—" like we'd already established "—maybe you, your father, and I could grab a drink tomorrow night?" His tone surprised me, all nice and shit.

"Oh…Um, sure." I had no intentions of Charlie meeting Carlisle. And I was more than sure of Bella filling him in. That's not something I minded. It just wasn't a conversation I planned to have with her father myself. "Sounds great. Goodnight!"

"'Night!" He waved.

Jasper and I didn't talk much on our way back to my apartment. He had been just as surprised as I was. Apparently, Charlie has a key, and Whitlock was rounding second on the couch when he arrived.

I knew I had it worse—my head being between Bella's legs and all—but my girl's smart. No matter if Whitlock and Alice would never bother us, or barge in, Bella locks her bedroom door anyway.

I thanked God for small favors, that Charlie didn't have that key.

As I dug my own keys out of my pocket, Jasper jerked his chin toward my building. "McCarty having a party?" Since we're on the first floor, our living room window faces the street. The lights were on, music sounding, and you could see the shadows of bodies in the room.

I slumped back, exhausted.

"Wanna crash at my place?"

I shook my head. "Nah…I have clothes at Bella's, but…nothing extra on me." The duffle bag at my feet only had dirty clothes in it.

"You sure? No, wait. We'll be seeing enough of each other again." He chuckled.

I furrowed my brow. "What?"

"Capt. didn't tell you? Since there were no problems before, what with everyone complaining now." He rolled his eyes. "Tomorrow, me and you are back on together."

I shrugged, truly not caring. It may sound fucked up, but I didn't mind being Black's partner, and I actually loved being Whitlock's partner. However, even if he's my current roommate, could easily be a best friend . . .

McCarty and me?

I wasn't cool with it, although I had no idea how Black and McCarty would fare together.

Feeling badly for Jake, I said goodnight to Jasper, and then entered my building.

The closer I got to our apartment, the louder the music was.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

Hale and McCarty were in the living room, a few of their friends scattered around. There was booze, pizza, and it was so late…and I wondered when I became a senior citizen.

Hale obviously wasn't drinking, but she approached me—wary. "We all had a long day, you know?" she asked. "You okay?"

I nodded, opening my bedroom door to throw my duffle in. Truthfully, the past two hours made me forget all about my horrible day. "Yeah, I know." I'd bet money my day was worse than hers.

"Do you mind? I can ask them to—"

"It's fine," I said, my eyes landing on Tanya. She waved, and I didn't acknowledge her. "I'm just gonna go to bed."

When I said that, Black left the bathroom, eyes instantly wide—happy to see me. "Hey, man!" He hugged me like we were besties.

Rosalie cracked up, laughing at our exchange, before going back to her party.

"'Sup?" I slapped my hand to his, and I smelled the liquor. Black was drunk and smiley, and yeah. I still wanted my bed. "I'm goin' to sleep. Goodnight."

"Can you hide me?" he whispered. "That chick is dangerous—should arrest her." He stared at Tanya. "Bitch gives ya a hickey, and you need a tetanus shot . . ."

I laughed out loud, throwing my head back. "Have fun."

"No, be my wingman…or pretend you're my lover." He grabbed my hand.

I pushed him away from me. "What the fuck?"

His eyes were pleading. "That's—that's how desperate I am, bro. We're partners. Help a brother out."

I chuckled. "Look, I got an extra blanket." He obviously couldn't drive home. "Bunk on my floor, whatever. Leave in the morning." I thought he looked about ready to pass out anyway.

He belched. "You know what? Fuck it. I'll just take a cab home, right?" Black widened his arms. "I'll just leave." Jake clutched the beer bottle to his chest as he walked back into the living room.

I watched, watching Tanya lunge at his ass quick.

Getting a kick outta that, I laughed my ass off, fast to close my door and lock it.

After sending Bella a text to let her know I was in, I landed facedown on my bed.

/=/=/=/=/=/

A persistent banging on my door woke me up. It was around ten in the morning, and I was still tired—my head feeling heavy.

"What?" I shouted.

"Bella's here," Emmett said.

I jumped outta bed, running for the door to unlock it. "What?"

Emmett sidestepped, still in a pair of boxers, and that's when I saw her.

Wearing the same pajamas, I left the room to enter the living room, and now I saw Charlie.

Bella wore a mask of . . . I don't know. She looked mortified, staring at the empty bottles, the pizza boxes, and everything else that littered the room.

"You young guys know how to party," Charlie commented.

"Party?" Bella asked.

I pushed my hair back, yawning. "I went right to sleep." No one was sprawled anywhere, or passed out. The room was just messy, and then Hale came out to say hello.

"You guys want coffee?" she asked.

I had no idea when she became a dishrag clutcher, always trailing after Emmett.

When I first graduated from the academy, she was more butch than me.

Maybe pregnancy softened her? Who knows?

"Do you want help straightening up?" Bella had that worry crease between her brows.

Hale waved a hand. "I'll get to it later."

I blew out a breath, knowing the longer Bella stayed in here . . . Hale being so blase about the mess was going to have Bella on edge. "Let's go in my room." It was neat, clean…except my socks on the floor. I hurried to snatch them up and throw them into the hamper.

Charlie looked out of place, looking around my bedroom.

"Hi." Bella leaned over to kiss my cheek, but then she shot up—thought better about sitting on my bed. "We thought maybe you wanted to join us for breakfast?"

"Don't lie," Charlie said, opening my closet. "I wanted to check out your apartment." He smiled at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Feel free to look around." I had no idea what he thought he'd find in my closet—the missing women from the neighborhood?

"I didn't lie. I'm hungry," Bella whispered. "We should get breakfast. Then we can go to the museum before Edward has to be at work." She turned to me. "I love the Museum of Natural History, and it's not far…not that far. We have to take the train."

"You don't have a car, Edward?" Charlie walked to my window. "You have bars on the windows . . ."

"It's a ground floor apartment. Of course, we do." I smiled.

"It's not safe?" He stared at me.

I widened my arms. "By the time someone saws through the bars…It's safe. She's safe with me." I held Bella's hand.

"All right." He hummed. "Get dressed so we can go."

"Okay…" Nervous, not knowing what the day would bring and still feeling tired, I entered the bathroom to clean up.

**Thank you for reading. **

**Please leave me your thoughts. **


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